


Among Sinners and Saints

by DebraHicks



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Western
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 54,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28461993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DebraHicks/pseuds/DebraHicks
Summary: An urgent trip to New Orleans put Vin and Ezra's relationship to the test.  At the same time Josiah has to face the church he left tweny years before. As if they didn't have enough worries, there is kidnapping and assaults to deal with.
Relationships: Ezra Standish/Vin Tanner
Comments: 15
Kudos: 28





	1. Prologue

Ezra glanced over at the wall of stones, then down at his hands. He shook his head at the dirt, scratches and forming calluses. His mother would be appalled.

Looking again at the wall he was trying to build, he knew Vin would be amused. The wall was terrible. He had wanted to surprise Vin when he rode out to retrieve Ezra for his turn at patrol, had hoped to have a good start on the front wall of the new room they were adding to the ranch house. When he had once exclaimed that a gentleman did not engage in manual labor, he had not bothered to explain that sometimes it was because they just weren’t good at it. Ezra Standish, gambler and con artist turned lawman, was terrible at anything manual that didn’t involve pasteboards or a gun.

Looking at the whole, rather than the slightly tilting wall, Ezra felt the house was coming along. They had bought the 2500-acre ranch from Misses Travis a little less than four months before, just after the shootout with Ella Gaines that had almost killed both of them. As soon as Mary and Chris had announced their wedding day and decided they were going to keep the Larabee ranch, Ezra had made an offer on the Travis property.

Since Mary owned the deed outright, she was the only one who knew that both Ezra’s and Vin Tanner’s names were on the document. While ownership of a spread by two men would normally not raise any questions, the accusation of only a few months before of Ezra’s and Vin’s sexual preferences made it wise for them to be discreet. Ezra smiled; the charge was true. He and Vin had been lovers for over a year now but as far as the town knew, he owned the ranch and the others were merely helping him get it into working shape. Later on, when they started running stock, he would let word slip that he had hired Vin as ranch manager.

The place was looking much better then when they had first ridden out to claim it. They had replaced the door and front wall that had burned three years before during the murder attempt on Billy Travis and the leader of the Four Corners peacekeepers, Chris Larabee. A new privy had been dug and the barn repaired. They had added real glass to the side window and gathered the material for a stone pantry addition to the kitchen. Ezra had insisted that they needed another bedroom to keep up appearances in case of company. That had become their next goal.

He frowned at the wall, the badly done simple task bringing up doubts he didn’t want to consider. Vin was confident that he and Ezra could run a cattle ranch. Ezra wasn’t as sure. He had conned and swindled many cattlemen, knew how the system worked, about selling locally to the army or driving them to a railhead. Knowing and doing were two different things.

The depressing thoughts gave way to a smile as he considered Vin’s complete belief that they could pull it off. The Texan’s reasoning was simple, if they could tame the country around Four Corners, if they could save the Seminoles from overwhelming odds, if they could survive each other, and everything else thrown at them - then they could do anything. Ezra was almost convinced.

Picking up another stone, Ezra looked at the wall again, laid the stone back down and shook his head. He was a man who knew his limitations, and building was one of them. When Vin and Buck came out he would enlist their help with the wall. Brushing his hands on the Levi work pants, he headed inside to wash up. It still amazed him that stepping through a simple door could carry so much feeling. He gave a contented sigh, looking around the little room. Home. It had taken thirty-five years of wandering and a handsome Texan to let him understand that single word. 

He chuckled slightly. Yes, his mother would be aghast.


	2. Chapter 2

“Mister Tanner!”

Vin turned at the youthful voice that called from the opposite side of the snow-lined street. Jason Antwhistle, Four Corners’ new telegraph operator waved him over. Dodging a freight wagon on its way to the mercantile; he joined the young man on the boardwalk. “What you need there, Bob?” Vin asked.

The short, gangly kid, glanced down, then back up, and Vin saw the sorrow in the light brown eyes. He shoved a piece of paper toward Vin. “I got this for Mister Standish but I was thinking it might be better if you gave it to him.”

The seven lawmen in town frequently passed letters and telegrams to each other, but this time, as Vin took the paper, a feeling of dread touched him. Hoping it wasn’t bad news, Vin looked up at Bob. “Maybe….”

The answer to his unasked question was clear in the way the boy flinched. “No, I… I think you better take a look.”

Swallowing, Vin nodded. “Okay. I’ll see he gets it.”

As he stepped off into the street, Bob said, “Give him my condolences.”

Vin didn’t quite hear him; he had opened the folded paper and had his suspicions confirmed. While his reading was still not the best, telegrams were short and to the point. He didn’t understand the first few words but the important ones jumped out at him immediately:

Maude Standish. Sorry. Died.

“Aw, hell,” Vin muttered quietly, clenching the note hard.

He stood there for a long time, staring down at the paper in his hand, unable to decide what to do, confused about what he was feeling. He had not actually spent a lot of time with Ezra’s mother. It seemed during her first few visits, something more important was going on – from fighting Eli Joe for his life to helping Chris. Still, the one unshakable, remarkable image he would always carry of Maude Standish was the light in her eyes when she had asked him to take care of Ezra. It was a blessing granted him at a time when he needed to know that not everyone would hate them for loving each other.

Vin blinked, startled to find himself with tears in his eyes. He shook his head, knowing the pain was more for Ezra than for himself. It was still another day before he was due to ride out and retrieve Ezra. This wasn’t something that could wait. And while he didn’t want to do it alone, he worried about upsetting Ezra by letting another of the seven know about Maude.

Vin was halfway down the street before he realized that he was headed toward the church. With a sad smile, he accepted what his mind had already told him; he needed to talk to Josiah.

The door opened softly on well-oiled hinges, spilling afternoon sunlight through the dusty interior. Josiah was in the front of the building, humming off-key as he sanded one of the pews. Vin found himself standing there, not sure what he was going to say once he had the bigger man’s attention. Was he trying to get out of telling Ezra by hoping Josiah would volunteer? Or did he just need the support of their wayward ex-priest?

“Vin?” Josiah called, sounding puzzled. He stood and started down the narrow aisles. “Something wrong?”

Looking down at the telegram still crumpled in his hand, Vin cleared his throat, remembering that Josiah had held romantic feelings for the beautiful con-woman. “Yeah.” Seeing no easy way to do it, he offered quietly, “I’m sorry, Josiah but Maude’s died.”

Josiah’s eyes snapped closed. “Oh no.”

They both stood in the silence for a long time, Vin letting Josiah come to terms with the death of his charming, though temporary, lady friend. After a few minutes, Josiah reached a shaking hand up and wiped at his eyes.

“Poor Ezra,” he finally said. Those knowing blue eyes looked down at Vin. “He still out at the ranch?”

“I was gonna ride out and tell him. Figured it'd be better’n waiting till tomorrow.”

“Did you want me to go with you?” Josiah questioned gently.

“I ain’t sure,” Vin admitted. “He’s gonna be mighty upset. And you know Ezra; he ain’t one to like showing things in front of folks….”

“But,” Josiah picked up when Vin’s voice faded off, “seeing Ezra upset hurts you just as much.”

A little embarrassed at being caught, Vin nodded. “It’s okay, Vin,” Josiah assured him. "Sometimes a person a little further away from the situation can help handle things.”

At that, Vin once more caught his friend’s gaze. “You ain’t that far away from it, Josiah. I know you had feelings for Maude.”

“Maude was a beautiful, witty lady that I will surely miss,” Josiah said with a slight catch in his voice. “But if there is one thing I’ve learned in my travels, it’s that grief shared is grief lessened. So, let us go break the sorrowful news to our friend.”

There was obviously a trick to it that he just didn’t possess. Ezra had taken a break to have lunch, not the most pleasant of possibilities since he had prepared it himself, but it had given him a chance to rethink his approach to the wall problem. When he had come back, he had concentrated on laying a very flat, straight bottom line first, then building up. It had worked very well for the first couple layers of rocks but now he once more found his construction drifting in an odd serpentine shape.

As he reached for another rock, the sound of galloping horses brought him around. Vin and Josiah were just slowing to a trot. Ezra knew immediately that something was wrong. If Vin’s early arrival hadn’t given it away, the sorrowful looks on his friends’ faces would have. Brushing his hands absently against his newly purchased cotton work shirt, he took a step toward the two.

When his friends dismounted, his confusion and worry grew. If there were trouble in town, they would have told him to mount up. The fact that they hadn’t meant that whatever had happened was already over.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, fear overriding his normally extensive vocabulary.

Vin and Josiah exchanged a quick look. Josiah took a step forward, put a hand on Ezra’s arm. “Let’s go inside.”

“The others? Is everyone unharmed?” Ezra demanded.

Now Vin stepped forward, gave him a soft smile that relieved some of the fear etching along his nerves. There were times when the new feelings of friendship and family were more than he cared for, now being a perfect example.

“Everyone’s fine, Ezra,” Vin said steadily. “We just got some bad news. Think it’d be better to get it sitting down.”

Not knowing what bad news there could be if the others were okay, Ezra nodded in confusion, grabbed the silver handled cane leaning against the door and lead the way into the small building. He took the first seat he could find, which was one of the chairs at the rough wooden table. Uneasy silence claimed the little room. Ezra looked to Vin. Vin avoided his gaze, his blue eyes flickering to Josiah.

Josiah pulled out a chair next to Ezra and sat down. “Ezra, a telegram came for you this morning from a doctor in New Orleans. Ezra, I’m sorry but your mother’s passed on.”

“What? Again?” Ezra blurted.

He watched Vin straighten in shock and Josiah glance at the tracker before looking back at Ezra.

“Again?” Vin asked.

Ezra took a deep breath, not knowing whether to laugh or curse. He was upset that Maude’s latest deception had distressed his friends so much but the look of surprise on their faces was, in a way, comical.

“She’s let you think…” Josiah started in dismay.

“Gentlemen, my apologies for the worry this has put you both through but twice before my mother has… uh, gone to her just rewards,” he admitted.

“You think she has faked her death?” Josiah ventured carefully.

“It is sometimes to a person’s advantage to let the authorities assume you have passed to your reward in order to exit a con that has not gone to plan.”

Vin frowned, pulling the telegram from his shirt. “Ezra… I mean, this is from a lawyer and everything.”

He could tell that Vin was torn between hoping for the best and hoping that Ezra wasn’t letting himself in for more heartbreak. There was also on both men’s faces the look of dismay that a mother would do this to her son, not once but now three times. Taking the telegram, Ezra read it quickly – and a touch of worry returned. Unlike the first two telegrams, which had both come from law enforcement officials, this one was from a lawyer whose name he recognized as an attorney that his mother had employed once long ago.  
Vin squatted in front of him. “There a way to make sure a this?”

Ezra looked into the azure eyes of the man he loved. It was clear to him how much sympathy Vin was feeling for him. He glanced over at Josiah and saw the same emotions reflected in the older man’s face. At that moment, he silently swore revenge on his mother for this particular con.

“I believe,” he said, “that we should return to town and avail ourselves of the telegraph.”


	3. Chapter Three

Josiah stretched back on the church step, watching the telegraph office, willing the operator to bring them some word. He knew it was unreasonable to expect an answer so quickly. Ezra had telegraphed his query to Maude’s attorney only the day before. Even if the wires were up, it might take the man a day or two to get the message.

None of the other six had said anything, merely letting it ride while Ezra waited it out in the saloon, playing, and uncharacteristically losing, at poker. A quick glance along the sun-warmed street showed Josiah that while they had not voiced their concern, they were managing to keep an eye on both the telegraph office and the gambler. JD and Chris were parked in front of the bank while Buck’s laugh could be heard coming from the saloon.

The night before Vin had headed out on patrol. Josiah smiled slightly as he recalled the silent communication between Chris and Vin. Chris had raised an eyebrow, asking Vin if he still wanted to go. Vin had answered with a slight nod toward Ezra, signaling that Ezra wanted him to go and for Chris to keep an eye on their friend. Chris had agreed by simply walking away.

For his own part, Josiah had decided to believe the worse. He knew the others thought of him as a pessimist at the best of times, and he was, but this time he had made the decision quite deliberately. If he had two days to come to terms with his grief, he would be more able to help Ezra with his. Josiah was completely unsure of how Ezra would react if the news were true. While he had enjoyed his few dinners with Maude, Josiah knew that her relationship with her son had been a long series of partnerships and betrayals as they practiced their cons across the south and southwest.

After three years of riding, fighting and nearly dying beside the southerner, Josiah could still be surprised by him. His amazingly deep love for Vin was one thing that had taken Josiah unaware. It was seemingly beyond understanding; like most love, Josiah realized. Ezra’s relationship with Maude was another unfathomable situation. While Vin had wanted him along when they broke the initial news, Josiah had a feeling that if the word did come, Ezra was the kind to grieve alone. Josiah saw nothing wrong with that reaction. He wasn’t sure the others would understand it though, so he would stay close to either offer support or protect Ezra’s privacy.

Standing up, Josiah started back toward the ladder propped against the outside wall. He glanced up at the newly painted front church wall, looking clean and clear in fresh white paint. Another coat and the front would be done.

Mister Antwhistle pushed his way into the saloon. Ezra was not aware that he had been constantly checking the entrance, but he knew immediately when the young man came in – and just as instantly knew what the answering telegram said. received. The world turned strangely hazy and gray around him.

Antwhistle was standing next to him with the telegram held out. Ezra refused to look up into the boy’s eyes, not wanting to confirm what the young man’s body language was giving away. He took the small slip of paper, pressed a coin into the open hand. The coin was immediately lowered back to the table. Ezra merely nodded, unconsciously running his thumb over the edge of the deck of cards in his hand.

“You gonna play, mister, or just sit on your ass?” One of the cowboys he was playing drawled.

Ezra jerked himself back to reality. Losing control was far too dangerous, under any circumstances, especially in the middle of a card game. “Sir,” he said carefully, “I’m going to pass the deal to this amiable gentleman to my left and excuse myself from the table.”

He reached out and started to rake in his meager winnings. And a hand landed on top of the pile. “You can’t leave with all the money,” the cowboy snapped.

“You are correct,” Ezra cut in. “It would be crass of me to vacate the premises without offering a better game to you, gentlemen. Shall we continue?”

Vin came into the saloon and immediately looked toward the poker table. The fading sunlight streaked across the green felt table, illuminating the dapper dressed gambler and the single scruffy cowboy he was dealing cards toward. A quick survey of the room revealed JD, Chris and Josiah at a table near the front. They nodded to him. Chris tilted his head a little to the side, telling him to come over. With a look toward Ezra, he joined the others.

Sinking down into the chair, he took the whiskey that Chris pushed toward him. “Still no answer?”

“Yeah,” Chris said, “it came. Been sitting on that table since noon.”

“He hasn’t read it,” JD offered.

Vin turned to look more closely at Ezra - and knew. Despite the smile on Ezra’s handsome face and the easy way he dealt the cards to the other player, Vin could see the shadows in his eyes.

“Don’t need to read it. He knows the answer,” Vin said sadly.

“From the way he has been losing,” Josiah continued. “We all do.”

There was a slight catch in Josiah’s deep voice and Vin turned his attention toward him. “I’m sorry, Josiah.”

Josiah gave him a soft, sad smile. “She was an interesting, entertaining woman. I will miss her.”

“What’re we gonna do about Ezra?” JD asked.

Vin glanced out from under his hat at the young man, remembering a time when Ezra's well-being was the last thing JD had been concerned with. When the others had learned the truth of his and Ezra's relationship, JD, along with Nathan and Josiah, had advocated their leaving town. That had been before Ella Gaines.

Since then things had been normal between them; until the other week, when a close shootout had lead Ezra to give JD a hug. JD had reacted as if Ezra had stabbed him, shoving the gambler away so hard Ezra had ended up on the ground. Vin had been angry, making a grab for the sheriff, only to find his move stopped by Ezra. Now, it seemed the action was forgotten in light of Ezra’s loss.

“Once that cowboy leaves, I’ll take care of it,” Vin said.

“Maybe you should leave him alone,” Chris offered. Vin glanced at him. “Man might just need time.”

“I didn’t have anyone around when my ma died,” JD admitted. “I think… I think he needs Vin.”

Vin sensed, even in the sorrow filling JD’s voice, the slight embarrassment that was always present when the young man considered them together. Still, of the two offered suggestions, he knew which one he would take. Even as they spoke, the lone cowboy picked up his surprising winnings, tipped his hat and headed, staggering just a bit, toward the doors. Vin's attention now riveted on Ezra, waiting to see what he would do.

With slow, methodical moves, Ezra put his meager winnings into his inside pocket. Even from across the room, Vin could see the green eyes close slowly and the gambler take a deep breath. Only after another long pause did Ezra’s hand cover the telegram. Vin rose, started toward his friend.

Like a horse startled out of sleep, Ezra suddenly shoved up, crushed the small paper in his hand and nearly ran for the stairs. Vin hesitated, giving Ezra just a few seconds head start before following. Behind him he heard the others offer words of sorrow to be given. He didn’t acknowledge them; all his attention now turned to helping the man he loved.

Ezra closed the door gingerly before stepping to the chest and laying the paper down. He took a step back, sank into the chair. He felt empty, afraid to read the telegram. It came to him that he was sitting and staring at the paper just as he had sat and stared at the assassin’s money only a few months before. Just as then, he knew, for good or not, his life was about to change forever. He sighed. No, his life was already changed; he just had to acknowledge it.

He picked up the telegram and without hesitation, flipped it over and read the short message. As the words registered, the world turned to memories and feelings about his mother; the fear of being abandoned, the joy in some of the families he’d been left with, the terror with some of the others, the thrill of winning a con, the anger at being bested over the saloon deal. He remembered flashes of laughter and the even rarer flash of approval from his mother. Overriding all of those though seemed to be a wave of loneliness that he could remember with too much clarity.

Something touched his arm and he looked down to find Vin squatting in front of him. With detached observation, Ezra noted that Vin looked more upset than he thought he probably did. He glanced down at the paper in his hand, opened his mouth to say something but nothing came. Vin’s hand reached for his. Ezra jerked away, coming to his feet and moving out of Vin's reach. He froze at the dresser, waiting for Vin to follow. Relief filled him when the lean tracker only stood but didn’t close.

Ezra gripped the scared edge of the dresser, held on as he tried to sort through the storm of emotions, through the desertion he remembered from childhood, through the anger that always followed, through the new expression of concern and care he’d seen from his mother during her last visit.

“I can’t do this,” he muttered.

Vin stepped closer but stopped when Ezra moved from the dresser to the window, throwing it open to let in the biting cold air. Vin’s voice was hoarse as he asked, “Do what?”

What was he fighting against? Grieving? Letting the emotions of loss and desertion show? Why was he afraid of letting Vin see him now?

“Be here,” Ezra answered sharply. "My presence is required in New Orleans.”

“Ezra….”

“Mister Matthews, Mother’s…. Mother’s attorney…. Will handle the funeral arrangements,” he continued. It was getting easier to talk as he hardened his wall against the loss. He was no fool, he knew the wall would come down, knew it would be soon, but for now he needed this distance, this solitude. “He understands that the length of my trip will necessitate the actual internment take place before I arrive. Once there, I will assist him in arranging a proper memorial service. There is also the will to consider.”

He forced himself around, suddenly afraid that Vin would misunderstand his need for this, would think Ezra didn’t need him. Sad eyes met his and he saw only compassion in the crystal blue gaze. A very slight smile forced itself to his lips as he realized that he had once again underestimated the love they shared. Vin stepped closer but this time Ezra held his ground. A warm hand brushed his cheek and the wall wavered. If Vin took him in his arms, Ezra knew the wall would fall and he wasn’t sure he could take the pain.

Vin’s lips brushed over the still too vivid scar on his forehead. “When you’re ready, Ezra.”

Ezra's breath caught in his chest, he merely nodded.

Stepping away, Vin asked, “What do you need me to do?”

Ezra cleared his throat, trying to figure out what was required. “I’m not certain at this point. I’m going to proceed to the stage office and determine the quickest route to New Orleans. After that I will have to find Mister Larabee and inform him of my departure and duration of absence.”

Vin started to say something but stopped, merely resting his hand lightly on Ezra’s shoulder. “Find me when you’re ready.”

Keeping his hands at his side, Ezra kissed Vin chastely. “You have my word.”

“How’s he doing?” Buck asked, leaning toward Vin across the table.

Vin frowned. “Ain’t sure.”

Ezra had been nearly silent since he had received the telegram the afternoon before. Vin had thought of sneaking in to the gambler’s room last night but decided that Ezra would come to him when he was ready. So far, except for his unusual silence, Ezra seemed to be keeping his protection up. He had appeared later than normal, and Vin had a feeling it was because he hadn't slept. The rest of the morning, he had been moving around town, cane flashing in the sun as he walked first to the stage office, then the bank, and then the mercantile. It was now near three in the afternoon and Ezra had yet to eat. Vin watched the man start once more for the telegraph office. If he didn’t eat something soon Vin was going to tie him down and force him.

“Seen Kiowa’s do this,” Vin said to no one in particular. “One’d lose a relation and get all busy-like for a few days, then they’d just go off alone, for days sometimes.”

At the next table Josiah sighed. “Yeah, but I can’t see Ezra cutting his arm to release the pain. When he lets it go, it’ll be with tears and not blood.”

“Yeah,” Vin agreed, “and I don’t think it’ll be much longer.”

Ezra came out of the telegraph office and stopped, seemingly confused about what to do next. Vin watched him turn, and nearly run into Misses Nettie Wells.

“Ah, shit,” Vin said roughly.

Both Casey and Nettie Wells held Ezra responsible for Vin turning to another man as a lover. While a few folks in town still muttered when they went by, most had either chosen not to believe the stories or to ignore them. Vin didn’t really care one way or the other, as long as they were left in peace. He came up out of the chair, heading for the door. Now was not the time for Nettie to give Ezra any trouble.

“I beg your pardon, Misses Wells,” Ezra said politely, just as he always did when faced with the older woman. He started to step around, expecting her to do the same.

“Mister Standish,” she said.

Ezra stopped out of sheer surprise. In the months since he and Vin had been accused of being lovers, she had not spoken a word to either of them. He turned toward her, unsure about whether to make an escape or not.

Cautiously, he said, “Yes, ma’am?”

To his building surprise, she looked very uncomfortable, but took a deep breath and continued, “I understand that you… that your mother passed away?”

Dropping his gaze to the rough wooden boards, he once more fought off the feelings those simple words started. After a minute he was able to look back up. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You have my condolences,” she said. “It’s hard losing family.”

Not knowing what else to do, he nodded and found himself repeating, “Yes, ma’am.”

Nettie’s obvious discomfort grew and she shifted a little on the boards. “Well, um, you and Vin get a chance when…. Well, when… you come out to supper.”

Ezra’s gaze snapped up, connected with the older woman’s brown eyes. He could read wariness, discomfort and sincerity in the invitation. It didn’t take much for him to understand the startling change of heart was not due to his own loss but rather to the harsh reminder it must have shown her about time passing and her own mortality. Ezra didn’t care. Knowing how much her shunning had hurt Vin, if she would show him some kindness, Ezra would bless the cause.

“Thank you, Misses Wells; I will pass that along to Mister Tanner.”

Still looking skittish, she nodded. “Good day, sir, and God bless.”

Chris watched Vin still his headlong charge across the street, obviously intent on saving Ezra from any unpleasantness. But the tracker had slowed and stepped back toward the saloon when he saw Nettie actually talking to Ezra and the gambler nodding back.

“I wonder what she said to him,” Mary questioned from Chris’ right side.

Covering her hand that rested on his arm, Chris shook his head. “Don’t know, but that’s the closest I’ve seen to any kind of a reaction from him since yesterday.”

“Perhaps now would be a time to tell him,” Mary suggested. “If we catch him now, maybe he won’t argue as much.”

Chris laughed. “Yeah, when pigs fly.”

Mary smiled, though the sorrow lingered in her beautiful eyes. Chris raised her hand to his lips and kissed it lightly, acknowledging her soft-heart. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Her gaze firmed up. “Mister Larabee,” she said in a voice that told him the decision was not up for discussion.

Nodding, placing her hand back over his dark blue shirt, they started across the street at an angle that would intercept the once more moving gambler. Ezra’s head was down though and he walked quickly pass them.

“Ezra,” Chris called. “We’d like to speak to you.”

“And I you, Mister Larabee,” Ezra answered. “Misses Travis.” Ezra tipped his hat to the newspaper editor. Before Chris could say anything he charged on. “I regret to inform you that I will not be able to attend your upcoming nuptials. I have ascertained that I will, if all goes according to plan, be absent just short of a month. That is assuming, optimistically, a week’s travel there and back, with a week allowed to settle the estate –“

Knowing that the only way to get a word in was forcefully, Chris cut him off. “We’re going to postpone the wedding, Ezra.”

Ezra stopped, staring at them in confusion. “Why ever in the world would you do that?”

“Can’t have a wedding without Vin there as best man,” Chris explained. “So, we’ll just wait for y’all to get –“

“Mister Tanner will not be accompanying me to New Orleans.”

Chris’ gaze narrowed, wondering what Ezra was thinking.

“A large portion of my journey will be through Texas and I will not endanger Vin’s life merely to have him in attendance at a funeral.”

“Mister Standish,” Mary said with a light touch to his arm. “We’d like you at the wedding, too.”

That seemed to touch something in Ezra and he dropped his gaze to the wood boards. Chris knew that Ezra and Vin were still extremely cautious in town, still uncertain over their future in it. Even more than that, Chris knew that home and family was not something Ezra was familiar with. An overt expression of friendship tended to make him nervous.

“Thank you, Misses Travis.”

Deciding to spare him any more embarrassment, Chris asked, “You told Vin about this plan?”

Ezra actually flinched. “No. I was just on my way to inform Mister Tanner of my decision. If you’ll excuse me.”

They moved aside, letting him continue toward the saloon. Mary shook her head. “I think that will be a very interesting discussion.”

Chris looked down in shock. “Mary, I don’t think it’ll be the kind of “discussion” a lady should be listening to.”

His statement brought a devilish light to Mary’s blue eyes. “I know. That’s what would make it so interesting. I hope Ezra knows what he’s doing.”

As he let her lead him across the street, Chris wondered if Ezra and Vin were this much in love, and laughed when he realized he knew the answer to that one.

“What?” Vin said in disbelief.

Ezra sighed. He’d known this would be Vin’s response. His decision to hold the conversation in the saloon suddenly seemed like a bad idea. He had picked the more public place because he knew in private Vin would be far too persuasive in changing his mind. What he would now have to put up with was a public display of their discussion.

“Vin,” Ezra said. “The majority of the trip by stage will be across Texas. There is no train stop that will get me to New Orleans faster other than Austin. It is bad enough that you are endangered here by the false accusation….”

“Hell, Ezra,” Vin said firmly. “There ain’t been no one after me cause of that bounty in over four years exceptin' for the man who was behind it.”

“This is not Texas,” Ezra insisted. “There will be a greater number of the wanted posters in….”

“I ain’t letting you go alone.”

“I am perfectly capable of a journey to the city I was partially raised in,” Ezra said, his temper stating to fray a little.

“That ain’t the point and you know it.”

The wall wavered a little but Ezra forced it back up. Once more connecting with Vin’s gaze, he let all his love reach his eyes. Lowering his voice, he said, “The point is that I will not risk your life on a trip to a funeral.”

For just an instant, Vin’s determination faltered under Ezra’s reasoning. Ezra pounced on it. Levelly his voice and putting all his considerable talent of persuasion behind the words, he said, “Vin, it’s a short, safe journey. Mister Matthews will have everything in order so that all that is required of me is a few signatures and to attend the memorial service. I will be home in three or four weeks at the worst.”

A frown appeared on Vin’s face as he thought it over. Ezra nearly smiled. “Vin,” he said, trying to end the argument. “There is nothing I would like more than to have you with me. It would make the trip infinitely more pleasant if I could share the wonders of New Orleans with you. But I will not risk your life for it.”

Doubt now took the place of stubbornness and determination in Vin’s expressive eyes. Ezra congratulated himself. He might be a little rusty in conning but –

Vin’s gaze narrowed as he suddenly remembering who he was dealing with. “No. I ain’t gonna let you face whatever might be waiting for ya in New Orleans alone!”

Ezra’s temper flared, something he would have never let happen with anyone except the lean tracker leaning over the table in front of him. “I will not be alone,” he stated. “Mister Sanchez has requested to accompany me.”

That surprising announcement made Vin lean back a little. “Josiah’s going with you?

“Yes.” Ezra knew when to switch tacks. “Because of his affection toward…Mother, I have agreed. Therefore, if you go, it will leave Mister Larabee in dire need of help.”

Vin gave him a smug look. “Done talked to the judge about that. Said he’d get outside help if it was needed.”

The calm statement took Ezra by surprise. Then he almost laughed. Vin was thinking one step ahead of him. He took a deep breath, knowing Vin was not going to like this last card, but it was the only one Ezra had left to play. He was not going to see Vin endangered on this trip.

“And the price of the ticket? How exactly do you intend to secure it?” Ezra said calmly, meeting Vin’s eyes. “I was forced to secure a small loan from the bank, based on the ranch deed.”

As soon as he said it he knew he had made an unbelievably bad move. Vin’s blue eyes filled with shock. Ezra had used his ability to read and his influence to get the money to finance the trip - something that Vin didn’t know how to do and couldn’t do. And it was probably the one thing in Vin’s life that he was insecure about. Ezra’s heart sank as the shock in Van’s expression turned to anger and betrayal – Erza had overstepped their bounds.

Vin came to his feet so quickly that the chair clattered back. “That was a goddamned sneaky, conniving thing to do,” Vin growled, his voice only just reaching Ezra.

“Vin –“ Ezra started, knowing he had to correct this.

Vin turned and was gone before he could even begin to put his thoughts together. Ezra finally made it to his feet, cane falling to the floor in his haste to get to the door to catch Vin. He was too late; by the time he stepped out into the sunlight, Vin was nowhere to be seen.

“Damn, damn!” Ezra slammed the nearest support pole with his palm.


	4. Chapter Four

He tipped the bottle once more, watched the amber liquid fill the shot glass. Behind him, Inez was closing the shutters. Ezra ignored it; just as he had both Buck and Josiah’s attempt to get him to bed. They had both understood why he had tried the badly thought out plan, knowing how much he wanted to keep Vin safe. They had also realized what a mistake it had been. Both had offered assurance that Vin would be back.

Ezra had searched for him, but while Vin's horse was still in the livery, he was nowhere to be found. Ezra didn’t doubt that Vin would be back, he didn’t doubt Vin’s love for him. What he doubted, what made him take another drink was his own ability to get his lover to forgive him. In trying to keep Vin safe, Era had made him feel ignorant and unneeded, the two things in Vin’s life that scared him.

The door behind him closed, cutting the chill coming in as the sunlight faded into dusk. He laughed sadly, wondering how he had come to this sorry state. When had he started sitting with his back to the door? When had he cared for forgiveness? He stopped his thoughts there, refusing to think on anything except aiming the bottle to fill the glass.

“Ezra?” Someone knelt next to him. “Why don’t I help you upstairs?”

Blinking, Ezra made out the youthful features of JD. “Why…. Mister Dunne. I’m grateful for the offer…. But as it would, at this juncture, require me to… unfortunately, be supported by you…. I wouldn’t want to…. Alienate you due to my proximity. It seems…” His voice trailed off. “I am an idiot, JD.”

A warm hand touched his cold one, slipped the bottle away. “No, you ain’t, Ezra. Now, come on.”

The insistent voice was joined by JD’s shoulder under his and the younger man’s arm around his waist. He was suddenly on his feet and walking unsteadily toward the stairs, completely dependent on JD for balance. He wanted to say something, wanted to know why the more intimate touch now didn’t bother JD as the friendly hug had only a few weeks before. Ezra tried to get his mind around words but nothing seemed to be working.

He was next aware of sitting on the bed, with JD kneeling in front of him, tugging off his boots. Shifting to help, he tipped forward, to be grabbed and held steady by JD. As he was eased back something crinkled in his inside pocket. With surprisingly steady hands, Ezra pulled out the telegram. Without wanting to he found himself once more reading the words:

Deepest condolences, Ezra. Maude died at Charity Hospital three days ago. Apoplexy. Did not suffer. Robert Matthews, Esq.

The last few words wavered and Ezra felt his carefully constructed wall do the same. He took a deep breath, and felt something touch his knee. Looking down, he watched the tears roll down JD’s face. His hands went numb, the telegram fluttering to the floor as the sobs started through him.

Strong arms encircled him, JD coming to sit on the bed next to him, pulling him into a hard embrace. He sagged into the hold, letting his head rest against JD chest as the grief ripped through him. Vaguely, he was aware of JD crying with him, of the soft rubbing to his back and the gentle voice telling him to let go. Part of him wondered at the depth of the pain and knew it wasn’t so much a loss of Maude as it was the loss of a mostly imagined maternal haven.

While his mother had normally only sent for him when he was needed, likewise, he had been able, on a few rare occasions, to run to her. After his attack and near castration at seventeen, Maude had sheltered him as he recovered, even not knowing the extent of his injuries. Now, that dubious safety was gone. And even though he didn't doubt Vin loved him, he was filled with an overwhelming sense of loss and fear. What would happen to him now? Where could he run? Part of him knew it was a child’s reaction to their mother’s loss but the same part continued to cry.

“It’s okay, Ezra,” JD whispered. “I know.”

After what seemed like forever, he got his breathing under control, leaned back a little and looked up into JD’s clear brown eyes. Understanding and a deep wisdom shone in the gaze that was so often mischievous. JD did understand. As if in answer, the hold around him tightened, urging him to continue to cry it out.

“Vin’s mad, left,” Ezra muttered between gasps for breath.

“Vin loves you,” JD said easily. “He’ll be back.”

Ezra knew that but hearing it from someone else seemed to lift some of fear and loneliness away. Maude was gone but Vin wouldn’t deny him. Vin was the only haven he needed. The sorrow and fear retreated, became manageable.

Ezra sighed, hiccupping a little as he took a deep breath. He tried to ease away but JD refused to let him go. “Ezra, just relax.”

“JD,” Ezra started. “I don’t wish to make….you feel uncomfortable.”

“Does it seem like I’m uncomfortable?” JD questioned with just a hint of humor in his voice. His tone changed to apology. “I’m sorry about last week, Ezra. I… sometimes I have to remember that what I’ve been told isn’t always the truth.”

With a watery chuckle, Ezra said, “As do we all.”

Ezra took the comfort for another few minutes before easing away from JD’s embrace. He wiped his eyes, not surprised that he had a massive headache, surprised that the long purging of pain seemed to have also purged some of his alcoholic haze. Still, the headache, alcohol and tear-brought-exhaustion suddenly hit him with an uncontrollable urge to sleep. He lay back, unable to stay upright.

“Thank you, JD” he said quietly.

“It’s okay, Ezra,” JD repeated. “There wasn’t anyone around when my ma died, so I know how important it is to have family with you.”

The word family stabbed at him, reminding him that with Maude gone, he was now without one. He felt JD’s fingers undoing the buttons on his coat. The tears wouldn’t be denied but now they were more controlled, running in slow rivulets down his temples. JD didn’t comment, only continued to undress him.

The reality and real meaning behind JD’s words and actions became suddenly clear. Family didn’t always mean blood. Sometimes it was a lean Texan who carried his love or a too-young kid and four others who carried his trust. He smiled a little through the tears.

“Ezra?” JD questioned, obviously confused by the smile.

Bringing one hand up to cover JD’s, he said, “Thank you for reminding me about what is important, Mister Dunne.”

He saw the question form in JD’s eyes but sleep was no longer to be denied.

Vin slipped through the door, thankful for the full moon shining in the window and the soft glow of the lamp. He had been keeping an eye on Ezra since early in the evening, after he had a chance to walk off his fury. His promise to never leave while angry had been once again forgotten in the heat of his sense of betrayal. Ezra knew how he felt about not being able to read and sign papers yet the gambler had rubbed in how he had obtained the money for the trip. That had fueled Vin’s temper far higher than anything else could have.

JD was leaning back in a chair against the wall, hat and coat off, eyes glued to one of his dime novels. A soft smile covered the younger man’s face as Vin stepped to the bed, stared down at Ezra. JD had gotten most of Ezra’s clothes off before getting him to bed, leaving only his pants. A wave of guilt hit Vin as he saw the tear tracks down Ezra’s pale cheeks.

“I think it was easier for him with me here,” JD whispered. Turning, Vin raised an eyebrow at him in question. JD gave him a small shrug. “He thinks I’m a kid who’s just lost his mom, so it’s easier to cry in front of me.”

The intelligence in the answer brought a quick smile to Vin’s face. “We ain’t thinkin’ of you as a kid much these days, JD.”

The boyish smile of pleasure that JD gave him contradicted the statement. Coming to his feet, JD put his hat on. “He’s mostly slept,” JD advised. “He didn’t get sick.”

Vin snorted. “I’m surprised, considering he ain’t had nothing to eat.”

JD only nodded, as if he wasn’t surprised that Vin knew what Ezra had been doing. Stepping toward the door, JD added hesitantly, “He’s called to you a couple times.”

Guilt hit again but before it could take too strong a hold, JD touched his arm. “Take care of him, Vin.”

Vin smiled at the concern and love in JD’s dark gaze. “I will.” As JD started out, he added, “If’n you see Josiah, could you tell him I need to talk to him?”

“Sure,” JD answered, slipping out the door.

Stripping quickly, Vin eased into the bed next to Ezra and curled himself along the other man’s back. Ezra rolled toward him, seeking him out even in sleep. Without even thinking of it, Vin leaned down and kissed along his neck.

There was a soft sigh of acknowledgment, then Ezra asked, “Vin?”

Vin laid a single kiss to Ezra’s cheek. “Yeah. Go back to sleep.”

Instead, Ezra rolled over, blinking hazily at him. Before Vin could say anything else, Ezra laid his head on Vin’s shoulder, slipped as close as he could. “I am sorry, Vin,” he slurred.  
Stroking the dark hair, Vin said, “Me, too. It’ll be okay. Go to sleep.”

“Knew you’d be back,” Ezra whispered.

A smile came to Vin’s face at that admission. “Good. Reckon you’re learning. You’d drive a saint to drinking, Ezra, but I’ll always come back.”

A soft snore was his only answer.

He brushed a light kiss into Ezra’s hair. The moonlight caught on the barely fading scar that stretched from just above Ezra's eyebrow back into his hair. Vin took a sharp breath, vividly reminded of nearly losing the handsome gambler to Ella Gaines’ ambush. Ezra complained about how bad the mark looked but Vin knew in just a few months, thanks to Nathan’s stitching and the liberal application of honey, it would be barely visible. Likewise the fear that came with that small mark was fading.

Vin sighed, vaguely wondering if their lives would ever be less trying. He looked again at Ezra, at the slightly pale features and whisker stubbled cheeks. For the moment though, Ezra looked peaceful. He kissed him once more.

“And ever shall night be yours.  
No longer a hiding, no longer a shadow fearing sun.  
The dark covers conceals, nurses and heals.  
Night creature, safe in the dark.”

Gentle kisses woke him, trickled across his cheeks, down his throat. Ezra moaned, partially from arousal, partially from the hangover that was threatening. The slight headache was forgotten under the knowing hands that slid up his chest, brushing over his nipples. Ezra forced his eyes open, staring up into Vin’s smiling face.

“No one should look that handsome at this hour,” Ezra remarked through a dry throat.

Vin continued to smile but reached for the nightstand, bringing a cup of water to Ezra’s mouth. Without question Ezra sighed in relief and swallowed the wonderful liquid. When he finished, Vin sat the cup aside. Before Ezra could say anything, could form another apology, Vin claimed him. A moan broke from Ezra’s chest as the welcome tongue slipped deep into his mouth, twinned with his own. Vin eased on top of him, hot body pressing him down into the bed. Ezra resisted the urge to push up, let the slow swell of his cock take all his attention. It was a feeling he would never take for granted.

For eighteen years, half his life, Ezra had never thought to feel this arousal, this overwhelming need and concern for another person. He had never dreamed of letting anyone this close. Fear of discover, both of his preference for men and the near castration he had been subjected to, keep everyone always kept a distance. Until that moment when he had seen three men standing shoulder to shoulder in a dark saloon and wanted what he was denying himself, until an illiterate Texas tracker had shown him what love was. Now, held tight in Vin’s arms, he gave thanks, for the others, and especially for Vin.

Vin had used his momentary distraction to ease away from Ezra’s mouth, down his throat.

“Can you stand up?” Vin asked.

“If given good provocation,” Ezra admitted.

“Easier to undress standing up.”

Despite the slight sway, Ezra made it to his feet fast enough to gain a laugh from Vin. Vin followed him up, hands skimming along Ezra’s hips, lightly brushing along his stomach. The hot mouth pressed against his and once more Ezra found himself taken in a needful kiss. Ezra sighed, opening his mouth, sucking on Vin’s tongue but Vin broke away, letting his kisses flow down Ezra’s cheeks and throat. With a sigh, Ezra turned his head, urging Vin to take the sensitive junction between neck and shoulder. He would have never thought such an innocuous spot could be so erotic. Vin gave a deep chuckle, knowing what Ezra wanted and purposely ignoring the silent demand. Ezra ached back with a moan as Vin tongued over his raised nipple. Swaying under the assault, he held tight to Vin’s narrow hips to keep himself steady.

“Hang on to me,” Vin said huskily. “I need you outta them pants.”

Nodding helplessly, Ezra switched his grip to Vin’s shoulders, raising each leg as Vin eased the heavy, warm material off. He wanted to say so much, to apologize again, to plead with Vin to be very careful while he was gone, to repeat how much he loved him. But when Vin looked up at him, the love shining in the blue eyes made him forget his headache, his questions. Everything ceased to exist except for the light in Vin’s eyes. Then Vin’s tongue lazily trailed up his shaft and even thoughts of love vanished under a wave of passion.

“Vin....” Ezra pleaded.

Vin looked up at him, eyes glittering with mischief and desire. “Tell me what you want, Ezra,” Vin whispered huskily, the tone sending shivers down Ezra’s back. Before Ezra could form thoughts into words, Vin started his way back up, low voice flowing across Ezra’s hip, across his stomach. “Gonna be a long time without you. Tell me how you want it. Want to slide your cock into me? Feel me clench around you? Make you move hard and deep?”

“I shall never achieve that point,” Ezra moaned, “if you continue to ask questions in that manner.”

A wicked chuckle answered his complaint as Vin started his way back down Ezra’s chest. “Guess you ain’t gonna be able to tell me if’n you want it the other way. Want me to put my cock into that beautiful, fine ass of yours? Let me fuck you, take you –“

“Stop!” Ezra said as Vin’s dangerous mouth neared his cock. He grabbed Vin’s shoulders, lifting and pushing, sending him back into the bed.

Vin landed laughing, legs dangling over the edge, cock sticking up straight and hard. Ezra took several long, deep breaths, closing his eyes against the near-fatal longing in Vin’s eyes. “You are impossible,” he complained, even as he reached into the dresser for the jar of Vaseline, sitting it on the bed near the wall.

“Yeah,” Vin agreed with a smile. “It’s one of the reasons you love me.”

Ezra lay down next to Vin and together they shifted up into the bed. Now it was his turn to tease Vin. Kissing along the strong shoulders, he flicked his tongue briefly over one nipple. “A true dilemma,” he said with a shake of his head. “The incredible versus the incomparable.”

“Ezra,” Vin moaned softly, “there are times when you talk too much.”

“Oh?” Ezra said archly. “And do you have a suggestion of a task upon which my mouth would be better engaged?”

The answer was for Vin to grab Ezra’s hand and put it on his cock. Ezra smiled down at him. Without another word, he slipped down the bed and gave a slow lick up Vin’s solid shaft. A deep moan answered the simple move. Ezra smiled, licking the hot flesh, toying with the loose foreskin before sucking lightly on the head. With one hand wrapped firmly around the base of the big cock, Ezra rolled the heavy balls with his other. Vin was panting now, obviously fighting the urge to shove up into Ezra’s mouth.

Pulling away, Ezra pushed up on one elbow to look up at Vin’s passion flushed face. Vin’s eyes sparkled in the meager lamplight but more visible than the lust was the love that shone there. Ezra suddenly dropped the teasing, consumed with how much he loved and how much he needed Vin.

There were times when fancy words couldn’t convey what a man felt as well as the plain and simple. “I want to know I’m yours.”

Strong, callused hands pulled him up into a searing kiss. Vin’s tongue filled his mouth, the love evident in the soft growl that filled his soul. Ezra slid across as Vin came up to his knees without breaking the kiss. When need for breath forced them apart, Ezra continued his erotic assault by licking and nipping along Vin’s neck, down to the peaked nipples on the hard muscled chest. He flicked his tongue across one, blew softly over the wet spot and was rewarded with a groan and a thrust up from Vin. The heavy cock grazed along his ass, making him smile.

A chuckle sounded from Vin and Ezra looked up to find himself being smiled at. “You have a comment?”

“Ya look downright wanton when you smile like that, Ezra,” Vin said huskily.

“A compliment from the master,” Ezra purred.

Vin pulled Ezra up, once more taking his mouth. Ezra moaned as his full cock was pressed against Vin’s stomach, as Vin’s hard shaft pressed between his cheeks. “Vin....”

The only answer he got was the strong hands that brought him into a kneeling position, as Vin followed him up, so that they were leaning together. He was gently urged on to his back, the down pillow shoved under his ass. Closing his eyes with a soft sigh, Ezra relaxed back - and gave himself to Vin.

A feather light kiss of lips along his cock was accompanied by the hard stroke by well-greased fingers down the crevice of his ass. The kisses became long licks, following the twisting scars along his cock, bringing another moan. At the same time a single finger rimmed the tight entrance to his body. Ezra nearly whimpered. The touch vanished and Ezra opened his eyes, watching as Vin’s mouth sealed over the flared head. It was Vin’s eyes that closed now as he savored the taste of Ezra’s cock. He sucked for just a minute before breaking off with a moan.

Ezra shifted, adjusting his balance until most of his weight was on his shoulders. “Damn, Ezra....” Vin whispered. “You have a beautiful ass.”

“So you insist on informing me, usually when I am in this position.”

“Cause a bit of a stir, if I told you as you was mounting up on the street.” As Vin spoke the finger that had been teasing him eased gently through the ridged muscle.

Ezra gave a combination laugh and moan. Vin echoed the feelings, his hand pumping lightly on Ezra’s cock, thumb gliding over the partially damaged foreskin. Biting his lip, Ezra arched back, the touch sending shocks of heat through his nerves. He reached down, tightened his hand around Vin’s cock, trying to urge him on. Vin moved Ezra’s hand away, withdrew his finger.

Looking up, Ezra could see the lust on Vin’s fair face, could see the tightness across his shoulders. Vin’s hand stroked his own cock, slicking it down, making it harder. “Look’t this, Ezra. Look what you do to me. Get hard sometimes just watching you climb on your horse.”

“Please, Vin,” Ezra pleaded, reaching for his cock.

Vin moved, sliding close enough that Ezra could feel the brush of the light hair on his legs, putting his shoulders under Ezra’s legs. In the next instant, Ezra’s reality narrowed down to the slow, smooth glide of the hard shaft into his body. He held still, letting the incredible feel of Vin joining them together send flares into his already smoldering nerves, letting the touch confirm all of Vin’s words, all of their love. The heavy balls pressed against his ass, and he sighed in pleasure.

“Vin…” Ezra moaned softly, running his hands down Vin’s strong arms.

“God, Ezra,” Vin whispered quietly, holding still.

Ezra forced himself away from the feelings of heat and lust, knowing it would be over far too soon if he lost himself to the inferno. He opened his eyes, stared up at Vin, entranced, as always, by the sheer sensuality and beauty of his lover. Vin’s eyes were barely open, mere slits in the dark room. His head was down, hair falling around his shoulders and over his cheeks, giving him a wild look that brought a smile to Ezra’s face.

“You are the single most incredibly handsome man I have ever seen,” Ezra said firmly.

Slowly, Vin started moving, his words coming in gentle beat to the movement of his hips. “But I send you a cream-white rosebud  
With a flush on its petal tips;  
For the love that is purest and sweetest  
Has a kiss of desire on the lips”  
The slow thrusts were fanning Ezra’s passion, sending the flares in his blood higher. He gasped with the next smooth push in, shoved hard back against Vin, twisting, grinding down, bringing a moan from his lover and a faster withdrawal.

“I suppose,” Ezra panted, “that to demand you fuck me harder would be too crude after those romantic words.”

Vin stilled his hips. Ezra growled his disapproval, feeling the muscle stretched tight over the large head of Vin’s cock. He watched Vin take several deep breaths, obviously waging his own battle against the nearing flames.

“That’d be about the sweetest thing you could say right now, Ezra.”

He started to say something else, then Vin shoved hard and deep into him, turning any words into a barely stifled cry of pleasure. “Fuck!”

The hot demand was met with a wicked chuckle. “Damn, I love you, Ezra.”

The world around Ezra vanished into heat, into the sound of flesh on flesh. He threw his arms out, fighting to hold still, to let Vin drive as deep and hard as he could. Waves of heat now started through his blood, following each rapid thrust of Vin’s shaft. Ezra tilted his head back, tried to breathe through the inferno engulfing him. He grabbed onto the sound of Vin’s breathing, knowing when the soft moans gained in intensity, knowing when his lover was about to go into the flames. Fighting away the conflagration, he forced his eyes open.

It was a sight he would never get enough of – watching the ecstasy take Vin. Vin’s chin dropped, his eyes squeezing tightly shut, mouth slightly open, panting, muscles standing out in sharp relief, face flushed with passion. A single final push and a sharp inhale were Ezra’s undoing. He snapped his eyes closed, felt the big cock jerk and warmth flood his body. He cried out, the little touch of warmth adding the final fuel to the fire, burning away the world, past and present, leaving only Vin and him to share the perfect moment. Ezra sobbed with joy and relief, then let himself fall.

The passion faded slowly away as they shifted around, laying side by side, Ezra’s head resting on Vin’s shoulder. The slow return to the world was faster than normal, the reality around them being harder to ignore. Maybe it was the haven of being with Vin that muted some of the pain of Maude's death. For the moment, Ezra took the safety in Vin’s arms, sighed and eased even closer to his lover.

“I love you, Ezra,” Vin whispered into his ear. “Never think I don’t.”

Pushing up on his elbows, Ezra fixed a slight smile for his handsome tracker. “I had no doubt, at any time, of your feelings for me, Vin. Just as I know you’ll never doubt mine for you.”

A callused hand slipped behind his neck, urging him down into a soft kiss. “I ain’t gonna see you off today.”

Ezra stared into the night darkened blue eyes, trying to see what Vin was thinking. Before he could ask, Vin explained, “Sometimes it’s hard as hell just standing next to you, reckon I’d be subtle as a mule-kick having to say good-bye.”

“I understand,” Ezra admitted with a sigh, not liking it but knowing their world demanded it.

He laid his head on Vin’s chest, letting the warmth lull him back to sleep. The alcohol in his blood was making itself known again after being burned away for a while. After a wide yawn, he said, “Mister Larabee has expressed his and Misses Travis’ plan to postpone their nuptials until my return.”

“You surprised?” Vin asked with a touch of humor in his deep voice.

“No.” He raised his head, looking at Vin. "I wouldn’t say surprised exactly, merely, touched, even now by the familial relationship that exists within our unique group.”

He was rewarded by a hard hug and that wonderful, crooked smile of Vin’s, the one that had so captured his heart.

A little uncertain of what Vin’s reaction would be he said, “Misses Wells has extended an invitation to dinner upon my return.”

Sometimes Ezra wondered at how much Vin were learning from him, as the tracker managed to hide his reaction to the news quite well. “Why you think she did that?” Vin asked hoarsely.

Ezra said, “I believe my mother’s death may have reminded her of her own mortality. It might have brought to her mind that it was time to find peace with a person she considers family.”

Vin’s callused fingers brushed a tear off his cheek that Ezra had not even been aware of. “Long as she ain’t aiming to try taking me back without you.”

“I do not believe that is her intent,” Ezra said. “But, if it is, then we will have, at the least, obtained a good meal from the evening.”

“Reckon that’s something else we got in common besides loving each other,” Vin said, picking up on the lighter mood. “Good food.”

“Oh my yes,” Ezra laughed.

Nodding almost to himself, Vin said, “New Orleans got good vittles?”

There was a note in the rough voice that Ezra had heard only once before, an emotion that Vin was obviously fighting. Ezra’s thoughts turned to a dusty hayloft, to an insecurity he had never expected to encounter in the handsome Texan.

Leaning in, he kissed chastely over Vin’s cheeks and lips. “I should be angry that you would even consider the idea that I might encounter something in New Orleans even remotely more attractive than you.”

The next kiss was deep, filled with passion, tongues dueling until they were both breathless. Ezra eased away. “I will never leave you, Vin. Death is the only thing that will separate us.”

Just as that night in the barn, he was rewarded with a watery smile and the slight mist of tears in Vin’s eyes. Then, very softly, Vin said, “There will come a day,  
when I will look at you and smile.  
And a day I will cry.  
There will come a day,  
when I will ride away.  
And a day I will come back.  
Whether we stay or go,  
smile or cry,  
I will always hold you in my heart,  
as I know, I am in yours.

Vin claimed him in a kiss, speaking his acceptance with the slow stroking of his hands though Ezra’s hair. Ezra once more broke the kiss, this time with a yawn. A slight chuckled sounded in his ear just before Vin shifted them both down deeper in the feather bed. Ezra rested his head against Vin’s shoulder with a sigh.

“Go to sleep,” Vin urged.

“Your word you’ll be careful in my absence,” Ezra said.

“I’m always careful.”

Ezra snorted at that.

“You gonna promise the same thing?” Vin asked.

“Of course,” Ezra assured him with another yawn. “Though I would hardly compare the dangers I am likely to encounter in New Orleans with those in the environs of this territory.”

It was Vin’s turn to give a sound of disbelief. “Ezra, trouble follows you just about everywhere.”

Ezra barely heard the soft line as sleep claimed him.

Laying the last item carefully in the carryall, Ezra closed and belted it. He was traveling light, hoping to get back as soon as he could. There was also the idea of ordering a few new shirts and a coat while he was in the city. He wouldn’t have time to wait for them but could at least be measured before leaving. A firm knock on the door brought his thoughts away from shopping.

“Come in.”

Nathan peered almost shyly around the door, unlike his bold entrance when Lo Ping had been in the room. Ezra wondered if the healer were afraid of catching him and Vin in an embarrassing moment. Seeing nothing amiss, Nathan stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

Gesturing toward the bag, he said, “Mite early there, Ezra. Stage ain’t even due till mid-day.”

“Yes, well, I will not be ready for travel until I have secured a measure of eatables from Misses Potter. I refuse to subsist on what passes for cuisine at most uncivilized stage stops.”

By the end of his explanation, Nathan was smiling and shaking his head. “It’s a wonder you ever got this far west.” The smile faded and Nathan glanced at the floor. “Ezra, I want you to know how sorry I am about your ma.”

“Thank you, Nathan, I know your own recent loss of your father makes you understand, perhaps a little better than the others.”

“Maybe.” Taking a deep breath, Nathan said, “Ezra, I want you to see a doctor when you get to New Orleans.”

The statement was so unexpected that it took Ezra a couple of seconds to get his poker expression in place. “Why would –“

“You ain’t fooling anyone round here –“

“I don’t –“

“You may not be hanging off hitching posts no more but we both know that cane is for more than show,” Nathan continued. “I know you been having dizzy spells and losing your balance”

Ezra met the concerned dark eyes, trying to think of a lie. It wouldn’t come. With a sigh of defeat, he sat down on the edge of the bed. Nathan eased down beside him.

“I had nursed the hope that no one had witnessed these spells,” Ezra admitted.

Nathan again gave him an understanding nod. “Reckon ain’t everyone noticed. JD maybe, but most the rest of us have.”

“Vin hasn’t said anything,” Ezra wondered.

“What was we gonna say?” Nathan asked.

“I appreciate your concern, Nathan,” Ezra said. “It was not that I was trying to ignore the problem or avoid you. I simply understood that it would take time to heal from so near a fatal head wound. And the condition has been improving.”

Nathan was silent, urging Ezra to continue. “It occurs most often when I am weary or have over indulgenced in alcohol.”

“Two things that you’re likely to run into on this trip,” Nathan reminded him. To Ezra’s surprise, Nathan laid a hand on his leg. “Just try not to get too weary or imbibe too much. And be careful.”

Ezra laughed as Nathan stood. “Mister Jackson, I am always careful.”

Shaking his head, Nathan opened the door and started out.

“Nathan,” Ezra called, causing his friend to turn. “While I will acquiesce to your request, I feel that I am already attended by a very fine physician.”

The look on Nathan’s face brought a good laugh from Ezra.

“What you looking for there, Ezra?” Buck joked, peering in the direction of Ezra’s gaze.

Ezra pulled up straight. “Merely waiting for Mister Sanchez.”

“Yeah,” Buck said. “Figured you wouldn’t be looking for Vin –“

“You saw him?” Ezra couldn’t quite keep the hope out of his voice. It was irrational, he knew, but he had hoped that Vin might at least wave good-bye before taking patrol.

At his desperate question, Buck’s humor faded into sympathy. “He rode on out at dawn, Ezra.” With a sly smile, he added, “Did ask me to deliver a message though. He said for you to get your skinny ass back here pronto.”

The rough message said enough that Buck gave him a quick wink. Ezra felt the flush rise in his cheeks. The consummate lady’s man had been the first of their friends to notice and accept them as lovers. He laughed now at Ezra’s embarrassment, obviously happy for the two of them. The slap he gave Ezra’s back nearly sent him sprawling.

“Mister Wilmington,” Ezra admonished. “If you wish to honor Vin’s wishes, please refrain from dislocating my shoulder.”

Buck only turned to walk beside him toward the stage stop. The movement seemed to bring the reason for the trip back to Ezra and the sorrow ripped through him again. With a considerable amount of will, he turned the near tears into a deep sigh.

The hand on his back this time was strong, conveying sympathy. “Ezra,” Buck said quietly. “Case I ain’t said it; I’m real sorry about your mother’s passing.”

“I know.” Handing his heavy bag and saddlebags up to the driver, Ezra turned toward Buck. “It has been a rather enlightening few days. I have been quite touched by everyone’s response to Mother’s passing.”

Before he could get too maudlin, the door of the hotel behind Buck opened and Josiah stepped into the cold afternoon. “Ezra.”

“Hey, Ezra,” JD yelled from across the street. He jogged over, then stood for a moment, obviously at a loss as to what to say.

Ezra started to speak but was spared comment when Josiah said, “It’s okay to wish us God’s speed, son, or just a safe trip.”

JD nodded, still looking uncomfortable. “Just hurry back.”

The heartfelt wish made Ezra smile. “We will return with all alacrity.”

“Yeah,” Buck added, “and get back soon too.”

“I believe I just said that, Mister Wilmington,” Ezra sighed, closing his eyes even as he appreciated the joking.

“Time, gents,” the driver called down.

Josiah climbed in first, offering his hand down for Ezra. Ezra only gave him a sharp look before climbing aboard. He settled into the hard seat, resting his cane between his leg and the other door. Being the only two passengers heading out of Four Corners, Josiah took the opportunity to turn sideways and stretch out his longer legs. The stage lurched away, bumping both men into the hard wooden seat backs. Ezra sighed. It would be a long trip.


	5. Chapter Five

By the time they made their night station, Josiah was beginning to worry about Ezra’s silent contemplation of the scenery. As the stage came to a swaying stop, Ezra must have sensed his study. “I apologize for my lack of conversation, Mister Sanchez. I seem to be having trouble gathering my thoughts.”

“Ain’t a problem, Ezra,” Josiah told him. “Less it’s something I can help you with.”

Without answering, Ezra opened the door and climbed stiffly out. Josiah watched closely. While he had already known about Ezra’s dizzy spells, Nathan had made a point of asking him to keep an eye on their friend. A smile touched Josiah’s face as he watched Ezra lean on the cane. The man would never admit to needing help, except perhaps to Vin. Even that Josiah was not completely sure about.

The daylight was fading swiftly, making the small adobe building look surprisingly warm and friendly. The fact that it wasn’t moving helped with the allure.

“What do you boys need down?” the driver called out.

Stretching his shoulders, Josiah answered, “The black saddlebags and –“

“The red grip,” Ezra finished.

The two items landed at their feet, sending a cloud of dust up around them. Behind them the heavy reinforced door opened, casting gold light in a rectangle at their feet. A large, woman with a dark complexion was holding the door open. Along with the light came the smell of stew and fresh bread. Josiah made a small sound of pleasure as he took a deep breath. Ezra merely clutched his basket of food, giving Josiah a look that said he was not impressed despite the smells.

“Good evening to you,” the woman said. She was shorter than Inez, with long black hair tied back with a red bandanna.

She had a heavy Italian accent that made Josiah smile with memories, mostly based on food rather than cathedrals. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Madam,” Ezra said, tipping his hat with the same hand clutching the cane.

“I’m Senora Cantata,” she offered. “Wash basin and privy are in back. Second door is your room. Dinner is soon.”

“The aroma certainly promises a much more palatable repast than most stage fare I have encountered in my travels,” Ezra said with a smile.

At the woman’s blank look, Josiah explained, “He says it smells good.”

While the woman laughed and returned to the kitchen, Josiah followed Ezra down the short hall, glad to have heard the long words out of his friend. While Ezra seemed to be handling his grief well, Josiah had hoped he would come to him if he needed to talk. It seemed though that Ezra’s way of handling this was the same as his way of handling anything unpleasant, to shut it away. If it worked for him, Josiah would not force it.

The rooms were in a straight line down the back of the building which held three small, open square windows surrounded by yellowed lace curtains. A strong door with a sliding latch and iron fittings finished the adobe wall. The other two doors were closed. The front of the building was devoted to the kitchen off the side and dining area. Those were both situated around the large fireplace. Once out back, they put their things on the single table, then made use of the wash basin and privy before coming back inside. Maria was setting the table as they came into the room. A man slightly older than her was dragging in more wood for the fire.

“You seem to have a full house, ma’am,” Josiah observed.

“Yes, the stage to Austin will be full tomorrow,” Maria said. “There is a young woman taking her baby daughter east and a brother.”

Since Maria’s English had been perfect up until now, Josiah was confused by her words. “A daughter and son?”

Maria stared at him. “What?”

“A girl and her brother?”

“No, no,” Maria laughed. “There is another, a brother, a monk.”

“Well,” Josiah said thoughtfully. “That should prove to be a distraction, Ezra. I’ve not had a serious religious discussion in many a long month.”

“Mister Sanchez,” Ezra admitted, “while listening to an extended dissertation on various religious subjects is not something I would normal look forward to, considering the type of mono-featured terrain we are likely to encounter between here and Austin, I welcome the challenge.”

To Josiah’s surprised Maria laughed. “I am not sure what that means, but you will not be talking much with this monk. He is one of the silent ones.”

“Silent?” Josiah questioned.

“A vow of silence?” Ezra wondered. He rolled his eyes. “Can this trip get any more dismal? A small child and a silent monk? Stimulating company all around.”

Josiah threw his arm around the other man. “Looks like we’ll have to provide our own stimulating conversation tomorrow, Ezra.”

The stage hit another rock, nearly throwing Ezra into the lap of their newest traveling companion. Their luck had returned somewhat. The lady and her baby had decided to enjoy the hospitality of the stage stop until the next stage in three days, since the little girl had appeared a bit colicky. Only the monk, wrapped in a long, hooded robe had joined them, taking the seat opposite Ezra while Josiah squeezed in next to his friend. The monk had nodded in greeting when they climbed aboard then settled back. Under the hood it was hard to tell if he were sleeping or not.

The sun was taking the chill off the wooden coach, making Josiah drowsy. The sleepiness wasn’t helped by the silence of his companions or the mesmerizing play of the cards through Ezra’s fingers. Moving around, Josiah maneuvered out of the poncho he had put on that morning. As he settled back, he wondered at the small smile playing across Ezra’s mouth.

“Mister Tanner,” Ezra said levelly. “I do believe that robe is considerably warm for this clime, don’t you? To say nothing about it being the completely wrong color for you.”

The monk’s head snapped up and familiar blue eyes blazed out from under the hood. Josiah roared with laughter only to find the glare directed at him.

“You tell him?” Vin demanded.

Josiah held up his hands in surrender. “No, Brother Vin!” Ezra was smiling at Vin’s outrage. “How’d you know –“

“Vin….” Ezra drawled.

“Aw hell,” Vin muttered.

Laughing again, Josiah couldn’t resist saying, “Don't know why you're surprised, Vin, who do you think told me that you’d be coming by to ask for help at the bank –“

“Josiah!” Ezra said. “You were not supposed to reveal –“

“Ezra!” Vin flipped his hood off. “Damnit! Why didn’t ya just –“

“Oh my God.”

Ezra’s quiet oath stopped both Josiah’s amusement and Vin’s outrage. In a disbelieving tone, the gambler said, “Vin….you cut your hair.”

The look of amazement that flashed through Ezra’s expression and was reflected by Vin stopped Josiah from saying anything. Vin ran his hand through his much shortened locks. It was an obvious struggle for Ezra to regain his control, though over which emotion, Josiah couldn’t tell. He seemed to be struggling with both joy and disbelief, with a touch of outrage.

“Yeah,” Vin replied, a touch of anger in his deep voice. “I figured it’d be a mite harder to match up that old wanted poster if I lost the hair, coat and hat.”

“We added the robe just in case,” Josiah added.

“A wise decision,” Ezra observed.

The simple declaration further confused Vin and Josiah. This time only one thing was plain to see on Ezra’s face – joy. Despite everything, including the danger, Ezra was happy to have Vin with him.

“Now what the hell’s this ‘bout you planning on Josiah helping me?” Vin returned to his previous argument.

“I merely –“

“You couldn’t just give me the money! Gotta make it a game –“

Josiah shook his head as the other two continued to argue. Pulling his hat down he decided to just ignore them, though he knew the trip would be more interesting now.

By the time they reached their stage stop, Vin didn’t know how much of his anger was real and how much faked. Ezra had continued to stare at his hair with an accusing look. That, combined with the fact that the southerner had known, had in fact planned on Vin going to Josiah for help, made him feel like a tended child. He didn’t need permission to cut his hair and he didn’t need Ezra planning his every move. The fact that Ezra had known he would not be left behind was the thing that kept the anger from becoming too overwhelming.

“I believe the arrangements will be acceptable.”

Vin turned partially around, a little nervous with the hood cutting off his peripheral vision. He had not been paying attention to the situation with the stage station keeper.

The stage stop in Bloody Ford was bigger than the one at Gila Flats due to serving two lines, east-west and north-south. There was also a steady stream of freighters through with supplies for the ranches in the area. What it gained in space though had been lost in poor management. The dinner had been far plainer than that from the wonderful Maria. Right now no one really cared; sleep was the only thing on most everyone’s mind.

Vin turned his attention to what was being said by the Irish accented voice of the manager. “Only one bed in the room.”

Ezra cast him a quick, sly sideways glance. “I’m sure my silent companion is familiar with life’s travails, having given up his worldly pleasures in service to his Lord.”

Either not understanding him or not caring, the manager only handed them each a blanket and pointed down a narrow hall. Four rooms flanked each side. Josiah had already gone ahead, stuck with a long-winded Hoosier headed back east after discovering he was a better farmer than rancher. He gave Vin a quick wink as he followed the farmer into the room next to theirs.

Vin smiled, knowing Josiah had taken the room next to theirs as his way of protecting them. Given the exhaustion he could see in Ezra’s eyes and the increased use of his cane, Vin didn't think they would need any assistance with covering noise tonight. His thoughts turned dark again as he wondered at Ezra’s reaction once they were alone.

Stepping into the room, Ezra tossed his bag on the bed, bringing a cloud of dust from the bed and a groan from the gambler. Vin quietly dumped his pack on the floor by the door. He pushed his hood back; reaching for the brown, traveling coat that Ezra wore, wanting to help him out of it. The nimble gambler dodged his touch.

“Damn, Ezra, what –“

Spinning around, Ezra took him in a hard kiss, hands holding his head still, as if he’d ever think of moving. Ezra jerked away, his hands coming up to comb through Vin’s hair. For the first time in three years, Vin couldn’t read what Ezra was thinking, couldn’t see the truth within the beautiful green eyes. There was the expected sorrow, but there was love there too.

His confusion was reflected back from Ezra’s handsome face. Then Ezra smiled wide enough that the dimples appeared and the flickering lamplight caught on his gold tooth. “While I have yet to form an opinion on your new sartorial look, it is the act that has me stupefied.”

This time Vin honestly wasn’t sure what Ezra had said. Not that it mattered, because Ezra was smiling and he could feel the joy in that grin all the way to his toes. Ezra’s smile turned gentle as he once more ran his hand through Vin’s hair.

“You’ve given me more love and joy than I knew could exist, Vin, but to change for me – that’s something I would have never asked of you.”

“Ezra, you know all you got to do is ask and I’d move mountains for you,” Vin promised. With a returned grin, he said, “Hell, I’d even give up my coat.”

Ezra seemed to seriously consider it for a minute. “No, I don’t think my delicate constitution could tolerate that monumental a change in your attire.” Seriously, he added, “Don’t think I would ever ask that of you.”

“I know that,” Vin said. “Reckon I just wanted to look presentable for your family is all.”

He was cut off by another claiming kiss. Vin eased away. “I didn’t mean it to sound like you’d be ashamed of me. I just meant, I wanted to look my best.”

The sincerity in his request turned the fire in the green eyes into utter amazement. Ezra turned and sat down on the bed, his face softening into a maze of emotions. The sudden bouncing from humor to sorrow reminded Vin how tired and wrung out Ezra had to be. He sat down next to him, putting his arm around the sagging shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” Ezra said. “I seem to be overwhelmed by the slightest incident lately.”

Vin eased Ezra around to face him. “You’re tired. Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow will be better.”

Leaning into Vin’s embrace, Ezra rested his head against Vin’s shoulder. Vin rubbed at Ezra’s back, one hand kneading the stiff neck. He kissed the bowed head.

Ezra sighed, flexing under Vin's hands. “If you are concerned about the impression you will make on my relatives, rest assured it is an unfounded concern since there aren’t any relatives.”

Pulling back a little, Vin stared at Ezra. “Thought you said yer ma was gonna be buried in the family plot?”

“My third step-father, Anthony Simpson, was considerate enough to make room for her in his family plot. Except for a step-brother in the charming town I have no relationships. I don’t believe Morgan Simpson will see his way to the funeral.”

There was Ezra’s normal sarcasm in the statement, as well as an undercurrent of anger. “Bad blood ‘tween ya?” Vin questioned.

Moving out of his arms, Ezra shrugged and yawned. “More indifference than animosity.” He reached for his boots. “Anthony Simpson was the best of the five… six gentlemen my mother wed. He was an importer, widowed, with a fourteen year old son. I was eight at the time of the nuptials.”

Vin stood and moved to their packs, looking for the flask Ezra carried. While his lover didn’t sound especially upset to be relating the history, he wanted him to sleep well and knew the brandy would help. The next thing Ezra said changed his mind about how the gambler was handling the storytelling.

Carefully controlled blandness now colored the smooth southern tones. “I was the lure for that particular game. Morgan Simpson had not turned out at all in his father’s image. Anthony, my mother discovered, was very much in the market for a new son. You might be surprised to find that she stayed married for five years, longer than any other marriage.”

For a minute, Vin thought of suggesting that maybe Maude had been attracted to the man, but he decided to let it go. Ezra knew what his mother had lived like. Seeing the sorrow that darkened his face for a moment, Vin risked interrupting to hand over the liquor. Ezra gave him a quick smile, took a long swallow. Ezra stood then and continued to undress.

Vin came up behind him, rubbed his hands down Ezra’s arms. “Ain’t got to talk about it.”

Shrugging, Ezra said, “There is not much left of the tale. When they wed, Morgan was in Europe attending school then university. Upon his return, fearing for his inheritance, he hired a lawyer to investigate mother. I am not sure of the details of the encounter but mother and I were very soon on a train to St Louis with a small settlement and a set of divorce papers.”

Vin heard the sorrow in the level voice. Ezra had, once again, said more than he intended. Somewhere in those five years there had been a family and Ezra had learned to love the situation. Vin wondered if that were the circumstances that had caused Ezra to look for something else, even so many years later to replace it. A slight smile touched his lips as he thanked the spirits for letting him be the one to show Ezra that love again.

Ezra swayed against him. “Come on, Ezra; get your ass in bed.”

The solid body turned in his arms, a wicked smile gracing the handsome face. “And what actions did you have in mind upon reaching the bed?”

For a long, long moment Vin was tempted. His cock jumped a bit at the idea before he fought the images away. “I had in mind sleeping.”

The green eyes studied him in disbelief for a minute, then Ezra gave him a resigned frown. “Practical again?”

“’Fraid so.”

“Damn.”

As Vin moved toward the bed, Ezra continued to undress. “I am amazed that I continue to win at poker.”

It had taken nearly two years but Vin had finally gotten used to Ezra’s strange leaps of topic. He could also hear the teasing in the smooth voice. “Why’s that?”

“I would have given odds that Lady Luck had expanded my entire allotment of luck the day I met you.”

Dragging the robe off, Vin started wiggling out of his tight pants. “Maybe you’re looking at it all wrong there, pard.”

Sitting in the room’s single chair, Ezra jerked his boots off before looking questioningly over at Vin. “How so?”

Not concerned himself, but knowing Ezra would feel better, Vin stripped the blankets off the bed, shook them out and put them back down. Collapsing into the rope supported, straw mattress, he threw his hands behind his hand.

“Could be Lady Luck was just saving herself some work by giving you me as a lucky charm,” he explained. He tilted his head sideways with a smug grin on his face. Ezra was staring at him. “What’d ya think?”

Ezra folded his pants, laid them on the chair and climbed into bed, curling close to Vin’s side. “I am uncertain as to whether that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard or the most logical.”

“Let me know come morning.”

“Certainly.”


	6. Chapter Six

“JD,” Buck demanded again, “are you sure this is where Casey is supposed to be?

Looking over his shoulder, back down the slight incline on the side of the butte, JD said, “Misses Nettie said she was out near Wallace Creek. The stream cuts through here, so I guess she’s around here somewhere.”

Buck slowed his horse to a stop, glancing around at the walls of rock and dirt built up along the side of the stream bed. Winter still clung to the rocks and shadows, chilling the area, ice still decorating the dark cervices. Nettie hadn’t said much when she had come into town on her wagon horse, only that Casey needed to show them something going on near their ranch. Not making it out to be any kind of an emergency, they had followed her back to the ranch house before following the stream through the frosty valley and up into the buttes.

Just as Buck was about to suggest they try the other direction, a slight figure in dusty clothes, waved from a small level spot in the trail. Urging their horses into a trot, they moved up to join Casey.

“Casey –“

“Shush, softer,” Casey cut Buck off. “Echoes up here something awful.”

The two men climbed down and joined her. Leaning in close, JD asked, “What’s all this about, Miss Casey?”

“Tie your horses off and follow me.”

Giving JD an exasperated look, Buck signaled them to lead on. To his surprise, Casey turned off the trail and clambered up the side of the butte, heading for the top. Buck waved JD up after her then brought up the rear. Reaching the top, Casey motioned them to get down. Moving crouched over; they ducked down behind a sharp outcropping of black rock.  
“Take a peek over these rocks, down into that valley.”

JD snatched his hat off then took first glance, Also hatless, Buck stuck his head up enough to take a look. After a quick glance, he sat down behind the rocks.  
“I don’t understand,” JD questioned. “It looks like a bunch of cowboys rounding up cattle.”

Buck shot him a look. “It’s too early, JD. You don’t round up till full spring, not in the last of winter.”

“I think they are moving the herd to better grazing,” Casey volunteered.

It was Buck’s turn to look confused. “That a problem?”

“Wouldn’t be if it were their land. But it ain’t.”

Straightening sharply against the rock, Buck said, “It’s Ezra’s place.”

“You think they’re rustlers?” JD suggested.

“Maybe. Might be just squatting,” the older lawman explained. “Reckon we need to find out.”

He pushed up into a hunched over position and started back toward the horses. As they reached the relative flatness of the trail, Casey caught JD’s arm.

“Not just the two of y’all going down there, are ya?”

Pausing only long enough to check his chinch, Buck said, “We’re the only two here.”

“Don’t worry, Casey,” JD affirmed. “Though it might be a good idea if you go back to the house and let Nettie know what’s going on.”

“I think I should go down with you.”

“Miss Casey, I know you’re as good as any with that rifle but all we’re going to do is act stupid and find out who they are,” Buck explained.

As if to prove their determination, JD drew his gun and checked the load. Buck gave him a hard glare. “There ain’t gonna be no gunplay,” he said firmly.

“But…” JD started.

“JD, I do not feel like shooting nobody today.”

“I ain’t going back until I know what is going on,” Casey said in a tone that booked no argument. Pulling her rifle out of the worn scabbard, she added, “I’m going back up there and cover you two. I don’t mind shooting someone today.”

Impressed by her stance, Buck nodded while JD smiled at her. “Good enough,” Buck agreed.

Swinging into his saddle, he started up the trail toward the crest. “JD take that stupid tin star off. It just gives ‘em something to aim at.”

A few minutes later they crested the ridge and started descending the steep slope. One look showed that on the open trail the horses would have to slip and slide on the rocky terrain. There would be no way of hiding their approach. Hoping it hadn’t been a stupid idea, Buck looked over his shoulder and gave JD a nod before urging his horse down.

The trail was tricky and steep but mercifully short as they were coming down on the higher side of the bluff. Trying to watch both the trail and the men below, Buck saw two lope away from the small herd of cattle to meet them at the bottom of the path. As their horses lurched onto the flat ground, Buck pulled to a halt. The two men had stopped only a few yards away.

Putting on his best shit-eating grin, Buck said, “Damn, Dan, what are you boys doing out here?”

Giving them a wary look, the cowboy drawled, “Ain’t that a better question for y’all.”

“Miss Casey – “ JD started only to be cut off by Buck,

“Miss Casey was looking for a place for a feeder dike,” Buck said flatly. “Saw the crick was all muddied, wanted us to come up and take a look. Thought some lowlifes or rustlers might be causing a problem up here.”

Dan laughed. “Nah, just us.”

Keeping his smile in place, Buck added a puzzled look to it. “I may be wrong here, but don’t the Circle C place stop just up north of Sleeping Dog Canyon?”

The second cowboy shifted uneasily on his horse. Dan only smiled back. “Yeah, but….”

“But that would mean you’re trespassing.” Buck’s smile faded. “ I think ya oughta start these steers back to your side of that hill.”

The second cowboy, a fellow that Buck didn’t recognize, moved up beside Dan. The two drovers exchanged a quick, unsteady look. Buck felt his shoulders tighten and his hand inch down from where it rested easy on the cantle. Beside him he could feel, more than see, the same reaction from JD. Tense minutes crawled by.

“Hell, Buck, ain’t no one gonna miss some grass on this range.”

“Might be true,” Buck agreed. “But a man’s gotta have permission or pay for the grazing. You send your boss to town and maybe he can get a deal with ol’ Ezra.”

Dan spit a stream of chewing tobacco into the dirt. “City slicker don’t know nothing about cattle.”

“Your boss and Ezra can work that out.”

“Go!” JD barked.

Buck shot him a dirty, warning look to not mess things up.  
Dropping all pretense of civil talk, Dan snapped, “Boss will take care of this.”

Spinning his bay around, he whistled to the other drovers, and made a circle with his upraised hand. A minute later, with hoots and whistles, the small herd was turned and slowly began to move down the valley toward their legal range.

“Just me or did that end too easy? JD questioned.

“End?” Buck sighed. “I’d say it is just beginning.”


	7. Chapter 7

“That gentlemen is a sight worthy of celebration,” Ezra expounded.

“It’s a train,” Vin said flatly.

“Gotta agree with Ezra on this one,” Josiah said. “My backside is going to be much happier for the rest of the trip.”

“All of our backsides will be thankful for the shorter trip as well,” Ezra continued as they mounted the platform. “By this time tomorrow we shall be arriving in New Orleans.”

Vin followed behind, trying not to worry at his lip. Except for the incident in the rail camp he had never been on a train, and that one hadn’t been moving. He wasn’t at all sure about something that could go fast enough to get them from Austin to New Orleans in just a day. Not wanting to appear like a complete country bumpkin, he remained silent as they walked along the wooden platform.  
The wind tugged at his new hat and he cursed quietly, missing his old one. He had shed the robe once they were through the panhandle and moving further away from Toscosa. He didn’t mind the hair cut, but the temporary loss of his buffalo coat and well-worn hat bothered him. Nathan had given him a beautiful, dark buckskin jacket, a gift from the Seminoles to whichever of the lawmen could wear it. He had actually bought the new hat from Misses Potter. It was cut loose, like his last one, only dark brown felt to match the jacket. Misses Potter had said he looked very handsome in it. That didn’t help the fact that it wasn’t properly broken in yet.

“Gentlemen,” Ezra held out his hand and the other two deposited the appropriate amounts. “Josiah, I would suggest that while I procure the tickets you avail yourselves of the telegraph and inform the others of our progress.”

“Not a bad idea,” Josiah said. “Don’t want them worrying about us.”

"Think I'll mosey on down with Josiah,” Vin started. "See if I --"

"No!” Ezra snapped.

Vin stiffened. Dropping his voice so that only the two men close would hear him, he said, “Ain’t nobody gonna recognize me! I don’t look nothing like –“

“Vin,” Ezra said softly. “Please. We are only in Texas for another few hours, let us not push our luck.”

The fear in Ezra’s voice stopped his protest. With a sigh, he nodded. “Okay, I'll be a good little boy and stand here.”

“Mister Sanchez,” Ezra called. “Inform them that any reply can be sent to us at the St Charles Hotel.”

Josiah tipped his hat and proceeded.

"Gonna show you good later,” Vin threatened lowly.

Ezra caught the teasing in his tone and gave him a quick grin.

Twenty minutes later Josiah joined the other two on the platform. He shook his head at their questioning look. “Lots of long-winded folks,” he explained.

“Board!”

Vin jumped at the call then a little hesitantly followed his two friends toward the middle train car.

Ezra started aboard, only to be stopped by Josiah. “That’s the sleeping car, Ezra.”

“It is indeed and I intend to use it as such.”

Giving him a questioning look, Josiah said, “I only gave you enough for a seat ticket.”

Continuing into the car, Ezra said, “Then it was fortuitous that I secured more funds than I needed.”

Vin ducked his head a little to hide his smile at Ezra’s forced disregard for the money. Ezra had a kind heart but parting with money was still amazingly difficult for him. Vin knew he didn't exactly help to make the man more generous. Every time Ezra tried to buy him something, Vin would protest. At the same time though, he encouraged Ezra to spend money on other people. It drove the gambler crazy.

“I’ll take the bags down,” Josiah volunteered, confused but willing to let it go.

It was better than he had hoped for, and cheaper. Of course, it hadn’t hurt that he had convinced the ticket taker that he was a major stockholder in the railroad and therefore never paid full price. Still, Ezra was not at all happy with the generosity that Vin was trying to instill in him. He appreciated Josiah coming along but he didn’t understand why he had to finance part of the trip. Just because he wanted the comfort of the sleeping car for he and Vin, didn’t mean Josiah wouldn’t have been fine in the seat car. A twinge of guilt hit him and he almost groaned. That was the part he hated.

“Something wrong, Ezra?’ Vin asked from the seat across from him.

The tracker didn’t look up, knowing that the new hat prevented him from hiding his reactions as easily. Ezra controlled his smile. “Not a thing, Mister Tanner. These accommodations are far better than I could have hoped for.”

Vin did look up this time, expressive azure eyes meeting his, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Kinda nice having a wall like that ‘tween us and Josiah.”  
Seeing that the teasing was not going to be about money, Ezra said, “Yes, I think it will afford all of us a better night’s sleep.”

“Oh,” Vin said, “is that what you had in mind?”

Any reply he had was cut off by Josiah’s entrance. The big man whistled. “Very nice, Mister Standish.” Josiah sat down next to Ezra, sighing at the soft stuffing of the chair. “I approve.”

Vin had taken the seat next to the window, as Ezra had expected. Instead of looking out it though, his friend was facing inward, toward Josiah and Ezra. There was a billow of steam near their window before the train whistle stopped any conversation for a minute. Ezra looked over as the train very slowly started to pull away. Vin’s mouth was pulled tight and one hand was locked around the chair’s scrolled wooden arm. There was a moment of puzzlement over his friend’s reaction, then realization hit.

“Vin, is this your first experience on a train?”

For an instant, Vin thought of lying but it passed and he said, “Yeah.”

There was so much defiance in the single word that Ezra had to laugh. Before Vin could get angry, Ezra said, “You will enjoy the adventure, Vin, rest assured.”

The train was picking up speed as they left the town behind and moved into the country. “Let me show you why,” Josiah took over the explanation. He stood up, moved the chair over to next to Vin, unlatched the locks in the wall and pulled down the narrow bed.

Ezra had to laugh again at the amazed expression that appeared on Vin’s face. His friend had worn the same look when they had first entered the car. Vin had run his hand over the finely carved wood railings, pausing to touch the velvet covered chairs and let his eyes linger over the brass lamps hanging from the ceiling.

Leaning over, Josiah patted the fairly clean, thin mattress. “Real comfy.”

The two of them shoved it back up. Vin smiled, scooting back to give them room. By the time Ezra turned back from hanging the bed back up, Vin was staring out the window. This time Ezra took the set next to his friend, moving the chair around to watch the countryside flow pass.

“First time for a lot of things, I reckon,” Vin volunteered. “Ain’t never been east of Austin. Been north as far as Canada and west to the Rockies.”

Swaying to keep his balance, Josiah settled opposite them. “I’ve seen the Alps and the Himalayas,” he said. “The Appalachians and the Andes, and each and every one of them had a different feel.”

Ezra leaned back, content with his friend's company. As Vin talked, a new feeling came over him too. There were so many things Vin had never seen or experienced. While he did not plan on staying any longer in New Orleans than needed, he suddenly wanted to share some of the wonders of the city with Vin. There was now the promise of a little happiness from the trip instead of just grief. 

Vin watched as the shorter man undressed, back to him. They had talked well into the night, pausing only to eat. They had mostly listened to Josiah’s stories of travel, both of them impressed with the breathe of his adventures as a missionary’s son. Vin had been fascinated by some of the animals Josiah had seen, wondering at times if he were making some of them up. A snake big enough to eat a person? A bird, taller than a man, that didn’t fly? He’d been torn between the wish to see such things and the comfort of having a place to call home.

Josiah had retired to his half of the compartment an hour earlier. For another hour, Ezra had regaled him with the enjoyments to be had in New Orleans. Now, as they were both getting ready for bed, Vin thought he could hear in Ezra’s tone that the gambler had something besides sleep on his mind. He had understood Ezra’s desire for an evening of sex to say good-bye but he wasn’t sure his lover was up to it now. Grief had sent him to a restless sleep early the past few nights. Vin hoped he was reading the signs correctly, he thought the nearness and release might help Ezra sleep better afterwards. Deciding to risk it, Vin stood, swaying with the train's movement, then quickly and silently, stripped.

“Besides the obvious advantage of speed and comfort, rail travel does offer several other distractions,” Ezra said as he removed his pale gold shirt and hung it on a hook near the bed.  
“And what’s those things?” Vin asked innocently, calling Ezra attention back to him.

“The rattle and clatter of….” Ezra turned – stopped talking.

Still managing to look innocent, standing there in his glory, Vin asked, “What?”

Ezra’s eyes raked over him, his tongue flicking out to touch his lips. “Mister Tanner, you seem to…. You are the most….” Giving up on talking, he closed with Vin and claimed his mouth, tongue sliding into hot welcome as his hands came up to grasp Vin’s arms. “Mister Tanner, you are –“

“Mister Standish, you are still dressed,” Vin pointed out.

Ezra stripped with less care than usual, though he still managed to hang or fold all of his considerable clothes. Vin watched, fascinated by the almost subtle dance that the sway of the train gave his already graceful lover. He was very glad he had taken off his tight pants before Ezra had started stripping. Reaching down, he ran his hand over his fast growing erection.

“No, no,” Ezra admonished, moving close and letting the movement of the train push him into Vin. “It is not considered mannerly to begin without your partner.”

Vin wrapped his arms around Ezra, pulled him in hard and close. “Mannerly ain’t something I been accused of.”

Ezra kissed his shoulder, the light brush of his lips sending a shiver down Vin's spine. “Nonsense, you are one of the most mannerly gentlemen in our little piece of the west.”

Replying wasn’t even considered as Vin tilted his head sideways, encouraging Ezra’s lips along his throat. His hands started a slow exploration of the body resting against him. Ezra was compact muscle, like a good cowpony. Vin had to smile as the comparison came to mind. It was probably not one to share with the dapper southerner.

The solid muscles flowed under the smooth skin as he ran his hands down Ezra’s back. “You were talking ‘bout trains,” he hinted, kissing along Ezra’s shoulder, up to his throat.

“Yes,” Ezra said smoothly. “Besides the advantage of the masking noise, it is said that the subtle movement has a certain aphrodisiac quality to it.”

Vin continued to nip and kiss along Ezra’s cheeks, before slipping his tongue into the perfect mouth, breaking the kiss only when they needed air. “Is that a good thing?” he whispered. “Aph…ro… whatever?”

“It means something that increases a person’s inclination toward having sex,” Ezra explained, once again kissing along Vin’s chest.

Chuckling softly, Vin said, “Hell, Ezra, all I gotta do is look at you for that to happen.”

This time Ezra’s tongue filled his mouth, sliding in so that Vin could suck on it, swirl his own tongue around it. He moaned, loving the feel and taste of Ezra’s mouth, hot, slick, with a slight hint of brandy. As his hands skimmed down the narrow hips and over the tight ass, Ezra’s answering moan filled their mouths. As their tongues danced, Vin let himself feel the movement under them. It was pleasant, the way the little dips of the train would press them back and forth against each other. He broke the kiss, pulled back far enough to stare into the jade green eyes that were sparkling with lust.

Ezra looked like he wanted to say something but only leaned in on the next urge of the train’s sway. Vin sucked the hot tongue once more, his hands skimming down Ezra’s chest to pinch the already raised nipples. The touch arched Ezra back, driving their cocks across each other. Gasping, Vin reached out, grabbing Ezra’s narrow hips and bringing them together, grinding against the solid body.

“Vin,” Ezra whispered when they moved apart. “Please…”

Tonight he didn’t ask what Ezra wanted; Vin knew what they both needed. Taking Ezra in a tight kiss, he eased them back against the wall, ignoring the bed. Easing Ezra’s right hand off his own hip, Vin put it on the brass latch that divided the two compartments. Without breaking the kiss, he put Ezra’s other hand on the oak railing embedded in the wall.

Easing off the kiss, Ezra looked questioningly at where his hands had ended up, looked up at Vin with that same glint in those dangerously alluring eyes. Vin smiled, letting his hand run down Ezra’s smooth chest. “I think I could learn to like trains.”

“The bonuses associated with this mode of travel do seem to….”

The smooth southern drawl faded off as Vin started kissing down the same trail his hand had set. Ezra moaned as Vin’s mouth took the nipple he had pinched earlier. Vin chuckled, licking around the small nub before breathing gently over it. Ezra’s hand left the wood and tried to reach for his cock, but Vin smoothly intercepted the move without breaking his wet trail down Ezra’s stomach. He put Ezra’s hand back in the original position.

Sinking slowly to his knees, Vin licked along the two parallel scars that ran just above the dark hair. Ezra thrust up toward him. Smiling up at his lover, Vin asked, “You wanting something down here, Ezra?”

He watched Ezra take several deep breaths. “I’m not, at this moment, able to retrieve a word to adequately describe the wickedness of which you are capable.”

Blinking up at him, Vin asked innocently, “Wicked? You calling me names now?”

Before Ezra could form a counter statement, Vin licked over the flared head of Ezra’s cock. Any words from the urbane southerner disappeared into a gasp for air and a mutter of pleasure. Vin wanted to continue the teasing but all thoughts seemed to vanish at the taste of the hot flesh. One hand came off Ezra’s hip, came down to play along the sharp edge of the scars that decorated Ezra’s cock. His fingers slipped easily over the empty place where Ezra had been partially castrated, one finger sliding under the single heavy ball to find a certain nerve.

A quick breath from Ezra told him he’d found his target. He pressed down, at the same time sucking the flared head into his mouth.

“Vin!” Ezra jerked, the muscles under Vin’s hand tightening.

Smiling around the slender, long cock, Vin’s tongue played with the loose folds of foreskin, tugging on it with his lips. Ezra’s hand came up and played through his hair, sending slight shivers down Vin’s back. The fingers curled around his ear, grazed over his cheek. Vin sighed, slowly letting Ezra’s shaft slip into his mouth. He loved the feel of the hot cock resting on his tongue, filling his mouth.  
“I am unable to reach you….”

Vin ignored him, keeping one hand on Ezra’s hip, while his other slipped to grasp his own cock, hand moving slowly up and down it. His mouth mirrored the moves, sliding up and down on Ezra’s slick shaft, sucking, feeling the tremors starting through the muscles under his hand as Ezra fought the urge to thrust. The cock touched the back of his throat and he swallowed around it, the thick hair tickling his nose. He eased off, feeling the fight through Ezra’s body to control himself. Letting the long shaft slid free, Vin fisted the swollen cock.

He looked up into smoldering green eyes, into Ezra’s flushed handsome face. “Wanna do for me, Ezra?”

The gambler’s slender fingers smooth across Vin’s lips even as Vin watched him struggle to find the breath to speak. “Anything. You know that, my love.”

Vin kissed lightly across the puckered scars. “Let go,” he said hoarsely. “Fuck my mouth like it was my ass.”

Ezra answered his crude request with a combination moan and shake of his head. “I would be too rough.”

Smiling up, his eyes still holding the passion-darkened gaze of his lover, Vin said, “Like it that way sometimes.”

Even as he once again shook his head, Vin saw Ezra’s eyes slid shut. He licked up the scars again, then in the spaces between. Ezra moaned, hand falling to Vin’s shoulder, tightening. Once more he eased the shaft through his tight lips, swirled his tongue around it. He slid his hand off Ezra’s hip, around between his arched back and the hard wood door, to the top of his ass, pressing forward, urging him on. Using his tongue he pressed Ezra’s cock to the roof of his mouth, let the sensitive head rake along the ridges.

“Vin…. You are….”

The rest of Ezra’s protest was choked off by the brushing of Vin’s fingers down his ass. He thrust forward and Vin sucked harder.  
“Yes, yes….”

Vin very nearly smiled, knowing the sounds of surrender. Ezra’s hands tangled in his hair almost painfully. Tightening his hand around his own shaft, Vin picked up the rhythm as Ezra gave into his body and started thrusting hard and fast. He felt the power in Ezra’s moves, the strength in the compact body, enjoyed the feel of all that lust given to him. Groaning, Vin felt the desire burning through him as Ezra’s hips moved in shorter, faster bursts. He moaned as the passion built with each move, with each panting breath above him, with each touch to his own cock. The rhythm changed, became more erratic. After nearly a year Vin knew, on a level beyond thought, that Ezra was on the verge. His own need surged down his nerves, bringing him to the same edge.

He felt as much as heard Ezra’s cry of completion, the growled call of his name. The ice gripped him, echoed with Ezra’s cry along his nerves. He sucked hard on the cock, took all Ezra had to give him, reveling in the spasms of the hard shaft. His eyes snapped closed, the world narrowing down to the incredible feel of his Ezra’s offering flowing down his throat even as his own fluid spilled over his tight fist.

The hands buried in his hair moved to gently cup his face. He looked up into the beautiful eyes that held infinite tenderness. Easing very slowly off the softening cock, he sat back with a whoosh of exhaustion. Ezra laughed and slowly slid down the wall to sit opposite him, their legs entangled. For another few minutes they merely smiled at each other.

“I love you,” Vin finally said.

“I know,” Ezra drawled.

Vin looked at his sticky hand. “Too bad we ain’t got no –“

Pointing, Ezra said, “Pitcher of water and chamber pot.”

“Yeah?” Vin moved the foot or so to the cabinet and opened it. “Damn, reckon they think of everything on these trains.”

“Indeed,” Ezra said with a yawn.

“Come here.”

Blinking, Ezra moved the couple of feet. When he was within reach, Vin pulled him into his arms. He lowered the cloth to Ezra’s groin. “Mister Tanner, I am hardly in need of cleaning.” His voice took one a lusty tone. “Especially given that you hardly spilled a drop.”

Seeing the logic in his words, Vin dropped the cloth back into the basin. “Too good to waste.”

Blood rose in Ezra’s cheeks, making Vin laugh. He loved to get the overly proper gambler to blush or sputter. Right now though he could see the exhaustion starting to settle on Ezra’s body. He slipped his hands under Ezra’s arms and hauled them both to their feet.

“Come on, time for bed.”

Nodding, Ezra climbed into the bunk. It looked a little narrow for two but Vin knew trying to convince Ezra he should sleep on the floor was a waste of time. Boosting himself up, Vin rolled over to face Ezra, kiss along his forehead. He was rewarded with a soft snore from the already sleeping gambler.


	8. Chapter 8

The knock was loud enough to be heard over the clatter of the rails. “Josiah?”

Rolling out of the bed, Josiah turned up the lamp and opened the door to find a very tousled looking Vin standing there bare foot in just his pants. Glancing behind him, Josiah saw no sign of Ezra.

“What’s wrong?”

“Ezra grabbed his flask and snuck out a few minutes ago," Vin said sadly. “I thought ah chasing him but I figure if he had want’d to talk to me, he would have.”

“You think he’ll talk to me?” Josiah asked, even as he reached for his shirt.

“Maybe. I thought, what with you knowing Maude better and everything….” He sputtered to a stop, obviously unsure if he should have pursued Ezra or not.

Josiah laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll take care of him. If nothing else, I’ll make sure he gets back to bed.”

“He ain’t been sleeping good. Don’t seem like there’s anything I can do to help.”

Josiah saw the helplessness in Vin’s slouched shoulders. “You’ve done exactly what needed doing, Vin. You kept him thinking about life and love.”

“Been trying.”

Vin continued to stand there while Josiah slipped on his boots, tucked his shirt into the pants. “Go back to bed. It’ll be okay.”

Reluctantly, the tracker nodded and turned back to the other half of their shared quarters. Turning, Josiah started out the interior door of the compartment. He walked through the back half of the car, noticing the smaller pull downs were all full. There was no way to move between cars unless Ezra tried jumping to the next car. Josiah didn’t think he was drunk enough or grief-addled enough to do that. Which meant he was probably sitting on the back steps. No one stirred as he opened the ornate door and stepped onto the small area. As he had guessed, Ezra was sitting on the steps, leaning back on the iron rail.

A twinge of worry hit Josiah, not over Ezra’s grief, but over what looked to be a precarious position on the fast moving train. Ezra didn’t turn as Josiah closed the door behind him. Hanging onto the cold metal, Josiah eased himself down to the top step, one above Ezra. There was a long moment of silence before Ezra thrust the silver flash around to him without looking back. Josiah took a sip of the warm brandy, then handed the container back.

It was warmer, as they came down toward sea-level, though the wind and spring chill were still present. Josiah looked out over the rolling country. Under the partial moon, he could see the far outline of trees now, tall pines that lined the coast of Texas and Louisiana. The silver light turned the landscape into a series of shadows that seemed both peaceful and foreboding.

“Josiah,” Ezra ventured, startling him for an instant. “What most…. what did you find…. what attracted you to my mother?”

It was not at all what Josiah had expected, but he heard the need for an answer in Ezra’s soft voice. On thinking a moment, he replied, “Maude was a beautiful woman, Ezra. That was the first thing.”

“She was a charmer,” Ezra admitted, in a voice filled with amusement.

“And funny,” Josiah added. “Made you laugh, even when you knew the stories weren’t true.”

“A talent cultivated over many years,” Ezra explained. A few miles flowed by under the train before Ezra spoke again, still turned away from Josiah, speaking into the dark. “I never understood her driving desire to get me to depart Four Corners.”

There was no denying the incident to which Ezra was referring. At the time, so early in their association, Josiah had simply not trusted the conman to turn businessman, not enough to give him money. For that judgment, he was honestly sorry. It was passed now though, so he turned the thought away.

“It’s hard for a mother to give up her child,” Josiah said, then flinched, knowing that was probably not the answer in this case.

Ezra whirled toward him and snapped. “She gave me up often enough before!”

“I’m sorry, Ezra,” Josiah said, not sure if he were apologizing for his statement or the circumstances of Ezra’s childhood. After a quiet moment, he tried to explain. “When she left you before, I think she knew that when she came for you, you would go with here. That wasn’t the case in Four Corners and she knew it.”

Ezra remained silent. Josiah waited, feeling useless at the moment. Ezra thrust the flask back in his direction, his own way of saying he understood Josiah’s confusion. The silence between them stretched to the point where Josiah thought Ezra was done talking.

“Josiah," Ezra cleared his throat. "Do you think my mother… do you think she…. cared for me?”

It was the question that Josiah had been waiting for, the one he had seen lurking in Ezra’s green eyes since the telegram had arrived. It was the question that every child asked themselves when they knew there would never be a chance to find out. His silence brought Ezra shifting around to face him.

“That was not a fair question, Mister Sanchez,” Ezra said with a forced smile.

“It is exactly the question,” Josiah admitted. “Ezra, I listened to your mother complain about you being a lawman. I saw her displeasure over your decision to stay in town.”

Tears filled the green eyes that now looked up at him. “I thought, on her last journey to our fair town, that I detected something in her manner. When we talked, I felt…. but the only memories I seem to be dredging up are… from less maternal times…"

Josiah didn’t ask about before. He had listened often enough to both mother and son to know that Maude had not been the most attentive of parents, had left most of Ezra’s upbringing to relatives, and the occasional tutor.

Still, Josiah smiled, reaching out and laying his hand on Ezra’s shoulder. “If you ever doubt Maude’s true feelings, you only have to remember one thing; the act that only a mother who loved her son could truly appreciate – she gave you to Vin’s keeping.”

Stunned understanding filled Ezra’s expression. It was as if he had forgotten, or not truly understood the magnitude of the conversation between Maude and Vin on her last visit to Four Corners. Gradually, the tears started down his cheeks even as a smile touched his lips.

Josiah stood, patting his shoulder. “Come inside when you get cold.”

Just before he closed the door, he heard Ezra say quietly, “Thank you, Josiah.”

Weaving his way back to the compartment, he wasn’t surprised to find Vin still there, the interior door open. “He’s alright, or as right as it can be,” Josiah said before Vin could ask.

“Reckon it’s just gonna take time,” Vin agreed.

“He’ll get through it,” Josiah repeated, sitting down and taking his boots off.

“Yeah, he’s a tough little bastard.”

“That’s not what will see him through though,” was all Josiah said, knowing Van would understand.


	9. Chapter 9

Three riders appeared on the edge of town, catching Chris’ attention. Letting his saloon chair come back to the flat sidewalk boards, he nudged Buck’s arm, bringing him awake.

Shaking his head, Buck said, “Told you he’d be here.”

Rance Collings was one of the ranchers who had made his dislike of the seven very known. Several times he had tried to get the city council to throw them out. The older man, tall, rail-thin and sandy haired, gave a quick scan of the area, spotting Chris immediately. With a scowl on his face, he started across the street.

“Better get, JD,” Chris said softly. “Might need to make this official.”

As Buck rose and walked casually toward the jail, Chris returned his attention to the wood block in his hand that was slowly being whittled into an Indian on a horse. A few seconds later, Collings was standing in front of him. Chris calmly flicked some of the wood chips onto the rancher’s boots before tilting his chair back far enough to look up at the rancher.

"Larabee, some of your boys, gave my drovers trouble,” Collings stated angrily.

Tipping his head sideways, Chris drawled slowly, "That ain’t how I heard it. Heard your boys had their cows in the wrong place."

“No one running cattle up there now, it’s free range,” Collings argued.

Chris smiled, closing his knife and putting in his pocket. “Now, Mister Collings, we both know that is a lie. Ezra Standish owns that range.”

"That popinjay doesn't know how to run a ranch!"

A glimmer of the problem hit Chris. With a smug smile, he asked, "And you do?"

"Misses Travis should have offered the place to me first. It would have cut near two weeks off getting my herd to the main trail as well as giving me extra grazing."

“Lady’s free to sell to who she wants. And I reckon, you should talk to Mister Standish about leasing right-of-way and grazing rights,” Chris said reasonably.

"I ain't talking to that conman! Hell, he ain't even a real man --"

Chris was on his feet, holding a handful of Collings's shirt before the other man knew he had moved. "Ezra Standish is one of my men. He is one of the men hired to protect this town. You'll treat him with the respect due him.” His hand tightened a little. "You understand that?"

Hate glittered in Collings's eyes but he nodded, swallowing hard. Chris released his shirt, made a show of straightening the rumpled material. "Now, if you’re a real rancher, you'll talk nice to Ezra and he might cut you a good price."

The man whirled away, stalking across the street to his horse without a backwards glance. Just as he threw his leg over leather, Buck and JD joined Chris.

“Damn,” Buck complained. “We miss all the fun.”

Chris sighed at the peaceful day ruined. The melancholy grew a little deeper as he confronted the fact, that while Collings would be respectful of Ezra, it was only fear that had brought it on, not anything Ezra had done for the town.

“Should we keep an eye on that bunch?” JD asked.

Leaning against the pole, Chris looked down the mostly empty street. “I think he’ll behave but let’s add the valley to the next patrol out there.”

“Think we should let Vin and Ezra know ‘bout this?” JD voiced what Chris was considering.

“Nah, ain’t no need to be bothering them,” Buck argued.

Still watching the road that Collings had ridden down, Chris shook his head slightly. “No. They need to know.” He smiled. “If Ezra sees this as a way to make a bit of money, he’ll be right on it.”

He had not expected New Orleans to feel like home, nowhere had been home until Four Corners – until Vin. As Ezra stepped down onto the platform though memories hit him; holding his mother’s hand when they first arrived from Charleston; walking solemnly through the dead of night across the same wooden structure, bidding his fifth step-father good-bye. He flinched away from that image, surprised at the clarity from the memory of a thirteen year old boy.

“So, where’s this St Charles Hotel?” Vin asked.

It was near sunset, the train well over ten hours late. Twice they had been delayed, once due to a rain swollen creek and once to wait for a herd being driven north across the tracks.

Before Ezra could answer Vin’s first question, the tracker asked, “What’s that smell?”

Ezra took a deep breath, heard the action copied by Josiah. “That would be the mighty Mississippi River.”

“And sewage,” Josiah added.

“And gas lamps,” Ezra continued with a smile.

“And the ever present cooking of crawfish, onions, and jambalaya,” the big ex-preacher said with hungry look.

“New Orleans,” they finished together, giving each other a wide smile.

Vin was obviously unimpressed. “Smells bad.”

The other two just laughed and Josiah threw his arm over Vin’s shoulders. “But wait till you taste the food.”

Ezra tried to watch Vin as they continued their trip further into town. It was a short mile walk from the rail station to the hotel. Normally, he would have waved down a carriage but there didn’t seem to be any out this late. As it was, he gave up watching Vin’s amazement after a few quick minutes, he was simply too tired to do anything but watch his feet.

The St Charles hotel was huge by Four Corners standards, a little smaller than average by New Orleans standards. The scrolling ironwork supports and guardrail on the balcony added quiet elegance to the three story, brick structure. There were several rocking chairs on the front porch, along with wrought iron tables in the same style as that along the balcony. The sight of the place made Vin wonder if he had brought enough money. He shrugged the thought away. Ezra knew how much he had and how much they would need. The front door was propped open by an iron wedge, letting the cool spring air fill the dark space.

“Mister Standish!” A voice called from near the front desk.

A tall, dark haired man with an impressive handlebar moustache stepped away from a side room, and joined them near the entrance. Ezra held out his hand, had it taken in a double-grip and shook.

“Mister Fontaine,” Ezra said, returning the firm handshake.

“Ezra,” the older man continued. “I am so sorry about your mother. She was a true lady.”

“Thank you, sir,” Ezra turned slightly and gestured to his two companions. “Mister Fontaine, may I introduce my two traveling companions, Misters Tanner and Sanchez.”

The man extended his hand to each of them. “I am pleased to meet you, only sorry it is under such distressful circumstances.”

“Thanks,” Vin said quietly.

“We appreciate the hospitality,” Josiah said.

“Unfortunately, it is not the hospitality I had wished to extend, as we were very full when Mister Standish’s telegram arrived,” Fontaine said. “I regretted to inform him that Misses Standish took a smaller suite this time, one with only two bedrooms. And, due to the storms may of the ship captains are still in port, so there are no other rooms available.”

Vin merely nodded, glancing at Josiah. “Two bedrooms will do fine.”

“I’m positive the accommodations will be excellent as always, Mister Fontaine,” Ezra said.

As they spoke, two Negro boys, dressed in severe black suits, appeared and grabbed their bags, vanishing up the stairs without a word. Fontaine gestured after them. “I know you must be exhausted after your trip. I've had tubs sent up and will order the water up whenever you are ready. If there is anything else I can do, Mister Standish, please, let me know.”

Ezra gave him a quiet smile. “I appreciate the thoughtfulness.”

Vin took a further look around, noting the rich rugs spread out over the oak floors. A huge chandelier hung above them, fine crystal catching the fading sun and throwing rainbows around the finely appointed room. The tiny arches of light caught on the murals and lamps anchored to the walls, highlighting the expense spent on the ornate hotel. It was by far the fanciest place he’d ever been.

“Mister Tanner,” Ezra said, a hand brushing his arm.

If it had been any other time or place, he knew amusement would have been in Ezra’s expression. As it was there was only a vague, distracted look in the tired green eyes. Vin took a sharp breath as he realized that Ezra was just about to confront the room where his mother had spent her last days. He exchanged a quick glance with Josiah, seeing the knowledge reflected in the care worn face. Josiah gave a nod and Vin fell in close behind Ezra as they started up the stairs.

The staircase was as grand as the rest of the hotel, the steps covered with rich carpet that Vin could feel his boots sink into. The sensation was lost to the exhaustion he could see settling across Ezra’s square shoulders. The smooth dark wood banister slid by under his hand unnoticed as he watched Ezra.

It might have been he was just reading the signs, but Vin knew an instant before it happened - Ezra stumbled, grabbing for the rail and jabbing his cane down to assist, but it was too late, he tipped backwards. And Vin was there, holding solidly to the rail with his right hand even as his left arm reached out to wrap around Ezra’s waist. The sudden weight drug him around and slammed them both backwards into the banister. For a single heartbeat Vin feared they were both going over but Josiah’s strong hand on his back steadied them.

For a minute all three men stood, trying to get their breathing under control. It was Josiah who recovered first, slipping his hand under Ezra’s elbow, he moved him on up the stairs. Ezra didn’t object, merely got a more solid grip on his cane and allowed the help. Vin took a deep breath and followed them.

The room was as luxurious as the rest of the hotel, and had a vaguely feminine touch that Vin wasn’t sure wasn’t just his imagination. The minute the door closed behind them, Vin grabbed Ezra’s arm over his shoulder and steered him toward the bedroom.

Ezra tried to pull away. “Mister Tanner, I’m fine. It was merely a momentary touch of exhaustion.”

Getting him to the bed, Vin shoved him down. “Yeah, and I know what happens when you get exhausted,” he drawled out the word.

“Lamp posts,” Josiah said with a nod.

“Hitching posts,” Vin continued.

Giving them a glare, Ezra said, “You forgot barber poles.”

“Nah,” Vin said. “We was just savin’ it for last.”

Ezra tried to smile but it faded into a grimace and his hand went to the side of his head without him even noticing. Vin glanced worriedly up at Josiah. “Josiah, why don’t you run on back down and tell Fontaine we’ll be needing those baths real soon. One at a time.”

“Vin, please,” Ezra said quietly, “don’t fuss.”

“Reckon I got reason to fuss,” Vin snapped.

He hated being reminded of how close he had come to losing the single most important person who had ever been in his life. Ezra looked up in surprise, anger coloring his expression for a minute before he realized what Vin was really mad about. A single touch of Ezra’s hand on his blue shirt calmed Vin down. Kneeling in front of Ezra, he started helping with his boots. The fact that Ezra didn’t protest a second time indicated how tired and dizzy he really was.

Vin sighed. “Slide outta that coat, Ezra.”

Between the two of them Ezra was soon down to his short-handles. Vin looked up into the hazy green eyes. With a quick glance toward the door to make sure Josiah was still running his errand, he pushed up a little and lay a light kiss to Ezra’s mouth, pressing just a bit before standing up. Ezra gave him a quiet smile.

“Lay back and close your eyes,” he ordered, taking advantage of Ezra’s temporary submissiveness.

Without a word, final proof of how bad he did feel, Ezra lay back on the huge four poster bed, pushing himself up to rest on the velvet covered pillows. His eyes slid closed though Vin could tell he was in too much pain to sleep. For a moment, Vin considered seeing about a doctor but knew there wasn’t anything could be done except maybe some laudanum, which Ezra hated taking. With a sigh, he accepted that the best thing for the gambler would be a hot bath and a long night’s sleep. The thing that worried him the most was that he knew the next week or so was not going to be easy.

He heard voices in the main room and patting Ezra on the leg, turned to see what he could do to help.

“Has Ezra said what happens over the next few days?” Josiah asked.

“Nah,” Vin answered, taking another bite of the best chicken dinner he’d ever had. “Don’t think he’s thought much on it.”

“I suppose we’ll both need measured for proper mourning suits for the service.”

“Already taken care of that,” Vin said, pleased at Josiah’s look of surprise. “Found out Ezra had Misses Potter send yours to some fancy tailor here, so I had her to do the same with mine.”

Josiah nodded, sipping at the wine that had been brought with the fine dinner. After waking Ezra to a bath, they had each had their own then asked one of the servant boys where they might find some dinner. They were assured that Mister Fontaine would send up anything they wanted. Their vague request for three chicken dinners had produced a feast with more food than Vin recalled seeing in one place since he’d left the Comanche.

“Man does think ahead,” Josiah observed.

“Yeah,” Vin said. "Reckon that was one good thing he learned from his ma, quick thinking.”

“It does behoove a gentleman of chance to plan for every contingency,” the familiar smooth southern voice said from the doorway.

“Ezra, what are you doing out of bed?” Josiah demanded.

“And where’s your cane?” Vin added.

“Seeking nourishment and my cane is not needed at this juncture,” Ezra explained. “While I am not sure of the time, my stomach is convinced it is well passed a reasonable hour to dine.”

Vin looked at him closely, still seeing the wear of the trip in Ezra’s slow moves even though he was once more dressed in his usual finery with a fresh light gold shirt and green brocade vest. His eyes were clear and focused though and a slight smile playing on his lips as he looked at Vin. A sudden rush of heat filled Vin’s cheeks as he recognized that look in Ezra’s eyes. He glared angrily, shifting his eyes toward Josiah. Ezra only smiled a little wider, gold tooth glinting in the gas lamps warm glow.

“Richard brought up dinner,” Vin said, jerking his head toward a small table set to the side of the main door. “We had him bring three.”

Ezra nodded, moving toward the third setting at the table. “I believe it was the aroma that awakened me.”

Josiah reached over and poured the deep red wine into the crystal glass. “Mister Fontaine certainly knows how to tend his guests.”

They ate in silence for a bit. Ezra finished off the glass of wine and sat back. “I heard your discussion of our future schedule. Tomorrow,” he took a deep breath. “I think first I should ride out to the cemetery.”

“How far a ride is it?” Vin asked.

There was another long pause, during which Vin glanced up to find Ezra staring into the ruby wine. “Vin, I’d prefer to go alone.”

His first reaction was to argue, to tell Ezra that he should have someone with him, if only to pick him up if he fell off his horse. Then Vin remembered his own words from the saloon about how members of his adopted tribe handled death.

Reluctantly, he nodded. “I understand, Ezra.”

Ezra nodded, accepting silently that Vin did indeed understand the need he had to say good-bye to his mother in private. They both knew that the tears would be shed later, when they were safe, together. Clearing his throat, Ezra continued by saying, “It would be an excellent opportunity for the two of you to arrange your final fittings for the suits. We could perhaps meet for lunch before I discuss the memorial service with one of the priests at St Anne’s.”

“Ezra,” Josiah said, "I would be honored if you would allow me to help take care of those arrangements.”

Indecision appeared in Ezra’s expression. “Mister Sanchez, while I appreciate your very kind offer, uh, I am not sure, you would –“

“Maude made her wishes known to me,” Josiah stated.

Ezra’s mouth dropped open. “She what?”

“It wasn’t a planned conversation,” Josiah defended quickly. “It was late one night, she allowed me to accompany her to dinner when she was last in town. I’m not completely sure how the subject came up but Maude told me about how she wanted a funeral as memorable as her first wedding in New Orleans – big, expensive and with all the society of the city there.”

“Now that doesn’t surprise me,” Ezra said with just a hint of a sad smile. “I welcome the help, Josiah.”

Ezra wiped his mouth slowly with fine linen napkin, lay the napkin down and stood. Vin started to follow him up, but Josiah’s hand on his arm stopped him. He watched Ezra walk to the fireplace, running his hand over the fine marble mantel.  
“I think she knew,” Ezra said plainly. He took a deep breath and turned back to face them. “I made the mistake of observing that she did… not look well. Her reply was less than cordial. After that response, I dared not broach the subject of her sudden decision to settle in New Orleans. She had always loved travel.” A slight smile touched his mouth. “Travel sometimes necessitated by local authorities.”

Vin actually smiled at that. “She was a spunky one.”

Giving a laugh, Ezra came back and sat down. “Once we were setting up a drop con, something relatively easy to provide some quick cash….”

Vin picked up his wineglass, gazing into the blood colored liquid once more. He’d never had wine before tonight. It was something he thought he could get used to.

Ezra continued on with another story, tears touching his eyes and filling his voice, as he talked about their times on the riverboats and in San Francisco. Vin was surprised as Ezra told several tales. The gambler smiled and even laughed, as he related their various illegal exploits. By the third misadventure, Vin realized that by sharing the stories with them, Ezra was letting them remember Maude as he wanted to remember her, with good things, not desertion. Vin smiled, thinking this was a good sign.

Before Ezra could start on another tall tale, a slight knock on the door interrupted him. Vin watched as Josiah answered it, take a note out of the bell boy’s hand and dropped a quarter into it.

“Telegram there, Ezra.”

Taking the flimsy paper, Ezra gave it a quick read. "It is a telegram from Mister Larabee. It seems that Mister Collings has been running steers on our range.”

“What?” Vin snapped.

“Mister Larabee explained to him that it was an illegal operation and that if he wished to continue he would have to negotiate a lease price with us.” Ezra looked vaguely into the distance. “A lease….”

Vin had seen that look from Ezra before when money was mentioned. “What are you thinking, Ezra?”

He was answered with silence for a minute, then Ezra turned back and smiled. “A lease would allow us to gain some extra capital for repairs before we start running our own herd.”

“Lease to Collings?” Vin’s statement was toned with outrage. “Not a change in holy hell.”

“Vin….”

Vin didn’t anger easily but right now he was not in the mood to be generous. “No. That man nearly got you killed.”

“And you,” Ezra said, lowing his head. When he looked up though, calm logic claimed his expression. “Vin, you have said we need to make our peace with the past. If we are to live peacefully in Four Corners, this would be a way of starting to establish our place in town as more than just temporary lawmen.”

Vin glared at Ezra, only saying, “Reckon we can talk about it later.”

Ezra wore a cunning look but nodded. “Agreed. I will send a reply that the situation should stand for now.”

Ezra brought the horse to an uneven stop in front of the iron gate. He’d forgotten what it was like to ride a plantation saddle, with its flat back, lack of high cantle and horn. Once he would have felt at home on the gaited horse with its faster two beat ride and two-handed reining but he’d been too long out west, preferred the easy jog of his own gelding. Ezra dismounted and loosened the girth before making sure the tall horse was tied securely by the halter rope. Pulling his cane off the saddle, he walked toward the iron gate, feeling the tip of the spiked wood sink into the rich loam.

He closed his eyes for a minute, letting himself remember the smells of Louisiana countryside. It was funny how much more he noticed small things since he’d been with the lawmen, since he’d learned that there were reasons to observe the outdoors rather than just travel through it. The reason for his trip couldn’t be put off forever though and after another breath, he started the short walk.

The cemetery was not as large as he remembered it, though the moss laden trees seemed just as tall as they had to a nine year old. Ezra frowned, even now he could remember the day his step-father had brought them out here, filled with pride over showing them one of the oldest family cemeteries in New Orleans. Unlike so many, it was on ground high enough that, while mausoleums were still favored, they were not a necessity.

Ezra recalled knowing even then that they would not be buried here, because things like marriage and family were fleeting. Maude would live high on the hog for a few years, then tire of the man and they would move on. It was how they lived. It was how it had been for all of his life.

The gate swung open on well-oiled hinges. He was lost for a minute, before moving to the left, looking around for a new grave. The Simpson family crypt was toward the front with the newer plots to the side. A couple of minutes wandering brought him to a rain-streaked marble edifice with a single angel looking mournfully down at him. An iron, two-foot high, spiked fence encircled both the crypt and the two dozen graves around it. Toward the back, tucked in a corner, was a newly turned grave.

Ezra had been surprised that his mother had requested burial here, instead of being taken to their own family plot in Charleston. It occurred to him that since he hadn’t been back, the cemetery might not have survived the war. As he walked toward the grave, he admitted that he had not been back to Charleston since they had left it so many years ago, Maude for San Francisco and he for Virginia.

Reaching the grave, he took off his hat and stared down at the dark earth, at the place where he would have a headstone put before they returned to Four Corners. Kneeling next to the mound of dirt, he spun the hat in his hand, not knowing exactly what he was supposed to do or say or feel.

He started to speak, and was surprised when his throat tightened, cutting off any words. Several deep breaths later, he managed to say, “Hello, Mother.” The two year old wound in his leg twinged a little and he dropped down to sit crossed-legged, unmindful of the damp ground's effect on his pants. “I thought about you all the way here. Every mile from Four Corners to here seemed to bring to mind another memory. Unfortunately, we both know that not all of them, not even most of them, were good.”

Now that he was talking, everything he’d thought for the past thirty years seemed to need saying. “I wanted to come here and tell you I …. But that was never allowed was it, Mother. Affection was not something we dealt in. Lies, deceit, misdirection, but never… fondness.” He stopped, startled at how bitter his words sounded but unable to stop the thoughts now. “I reminded myself you always came back, retrieved me, that you did your best for me. Perhaps if I say it long enough I’ll believe it. Believe it but not understand it.”

He stopped, afraid of the rest of the words that were threatening. The fear of being alone had died during the nights with Vin. The pain of loss had been vanquished by Josiah’s caring presence but neither of his friends could excise his anger at being abandoned. Ezra closed his eyes, trying to think of the better times, the joy of when his mother would come back for him, the few times when she had praised him for something, the exhilaration of a successful con. 

The rustle of the oaks stopping his words, a wet wind floated through the trees, warning of rain. Josiah’s words on the train suddenly came back to him, bringing with them the single startling moment in his room a so many months before, when he had looked into Maude’s familiar green eyes and seen, if only for an instant, how she really felt about him.

Tears came again, only this time, he didn’t try to fight them. “I don’t believe I will ever understand our relationship, Mother, but I do understand now that you did tell me, if only once, that you loved me - when you told Vin to take care of me. Despite all the other memories, that is the one I will hold to.”

On the ride out he’d thought of so much more to say but that seemed to be all that his heart needed. He sat for a long time, letting the tears dry on his cheeks. When the sun had risen to almost directly overhead, he forced himself to his feet.

“Good-bye, Mother.”

With his eyes on the leaf and moss covered ground, Ezra almost walked into the two horses standing near the gate. Stepping back a little, he was not at all surprised to see Josiah and Vin sitting there patiently waiting on him. The warmth that hit his stomach was as welcome as the cool breeze that had dried his tears.

Controlling his smile, he asked levelly, “Are you gentlemen enjoying the countryside?”

“Pretty country,” Vin commented. “Kinda hot though.”

“You should be here in the summer,” Josiah said. The big man glanced up at the darkening winter sky. “Won’t be warm much longer, storm like this one blowing in means it’ll get chilly again.”

Ezra climbed onto the rented horse, noting Vin shifting on his mount. “Is there something wrong, Mister Tanner?”

“Yeah,” Vin said. “How the hell to do you stay in one of these sissified saddles?”

Josiah and Ezra both chuckled and took off at a fast pace. Vin let out a yelp, sliding nearly off, as his horse leapt to follow the others.


	10. Chapter 10

“Rain’s gonna be moving in,” Vin observed.

Josiah glanced up at the darkening clouds, but before he could agree with Vin’s assessment, Ezra stopped in front of them.

“Are you certain this is the church Mother spoke to you about?” Ezra questioned.

Josiah threw his head back, looking up the tall building. “Saint Anne’s. Outside of Louise Cathedral, largest church in the city, reckon that’d be the one.”

“But Mother was not Catholic.”

“Don’t have to be to have the service,” Josiah explained. “Just can’t have the communion and mass.”

Ezra followed his gaze up. “Yes, I suppose size would take precedent over strict propriety.”

The church was massive, done in combination southern marble and western pink granite. The spire towered over the two-story buildings that surrounding it. A large stained glass window depicting Christ’s ascension decorated the area above the entrance. Josiah stopped, staring up at the sparkling glass.

“Josiah.” Ezra stopped next to him. “Is something wrong?”

Not surprised at the gambler’s insight, Josiah admitted, “Been a while since I been here.”

He could feel the exchange of glances between his two companions. It was Vin who asked, “You been in this church before?”

“Oh yes,” Josiah said, trying to sound positive. “It was my last parish before I was sent west to save the heathens on the frontier.”

The stately feel that Josiah had always experienced when entering a place like this enveloped him as they passed through the vestibule and into the chapel. He paused for just a moment, considered the feeling, searching for something beyond mere grandeur, searching for a sign that God truly did reside in this house. Behind him he heard Vin whisper something to Ezra. Josiah didn’t hear the words, only the feeling in the voice came through. Warmth went through him, making him acknowledge that any sign of God’s presence could be found more in the love his friends shared than in the stone of any building.

Still, he acknowledged with a soft sigh, entering the church brought questions; questions he had asked twenty years ago, questions that he seemed to understanding, then loss the meaning of all in a single heartbeat. Putting his thoughts aside for the moment, he moved down the main aisle into the church.

An older priest approached them, a look of slight trepidation on his face no doubt due to Vin’s very visible gun. “Welcome to St Anne’s. May I assist you?”

“Yes, Father.” Ezra stepped quickly forward. “I’m Ezra Standish. This is Mister Tanner and Mister Sanchez.”

“Father MacAlroy,” he said.

Quick handshakes were exchanged all around. Josiah said, “Father MacAlroy, we’re here to discuss a funeral.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” MacAlroy said sincerely, with a slight Scottish brogue coloring his words. “Come into the rectory and we’ll see what we can arrange.”

The small procession started down the long aisle. Behind him, Josiah heard Ezra tell Vin, “You don’t need to be in attendance, Mister Tanner. Perhaps you would prefer to see some of the town.”

“Nah, think I’d better stay….”

Josiah turned. “There’s a book shop just down the block to the west, Vin.”

Through the broken sunlight of the stained glass, Josiah watched Vin’s expression light with curiosity. “A book shop? You mean a store that don’t sell nothing but books?”

Ezra slapped him on the back. “Exactly. I’m certain you can find sufficient entertainment to hold your interest for a proper amount of time for Mister Sanchez and I to finish our task.”  
Vin’s indecision was clear, torn between staying with Ezra or seeing something he’d never had a chance at before.

Josiah threw his arm around Ezra, ignoring the annoyed look it gained him. “Go on, Vin, I’m sure we can handle anything here.”

Glancing between the two of them, Vin said, “Okay, reckon I’d just end up sitting there anyway. I’ll be back in an hour though.”

“That should be fine,” Ezra agreed.

Josiah heard the relief in it. Vin gave a quick nod to Ezra, a soft smile that Josiah noticed was mostly in his eyes. Vin slapped on his new hat and disappeared into the gloomy daylight.

“Thank you, Josiah,” Ezra said. “He has seen me through enough tears this last week.”

Warmed by Ezra’s understanding of his suggestion, he dropped his arm and led them after the waiting clergy. “Nothing wrong with leaning on your friends, Ezra. Just thought you might want a little different support for the moment.”

Deep, rolling thunder echoed through the streets as Ezra stepped into the book shop. Nodding to the gentleman at the desk before winding his way through the tightly packed shelves, Ezra wondered briefly at Vin’s failure to return at the allotted hour. Toward the back, he found Vin sprawled in a low chair, his legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles. Vin was holding a large, heavy looking book in one hand, his other hand trailing along the page in front of him. From the angle, Ezra could see his lips alternately lift in pleasure or purse in concentration as he worked his way along the lines of print. To Ezra’s surprise the normally alert tracker didn’t notice his entrance.

“It must –“

Vin came to his feet; gun in hand, eyes wide. The book hit the floor with a thud. Smiling, Ezra bent over and retrieved the tome. “It must quite interesting,” he continued, “to hold your attention so completely, Mister Tanner.”

“Damn, Ezra!” Vin huffed. “Didn’t know readin’ could be dangerous.”

“I would say more dangerous for the man who interrupts you,” Ezra said as he watched Vin holster his gun.

Still holding the book, Ezra moved around his friend and took the chair. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

“You okay?”

Ezra opened his eyes to find Vin standing over him. “Fine, just bored.”

“Everything set?”

“I hope so. I was forced to retreat from the planning.”

Confused, Vin asked, “Why’s that?”

Running his finger over his mouth, Ezra explained, “At first I merely fought the sorrow…,” Ezra forced himself to admit. “But after a time the sheer extremes that mother wished to go to for the funerary rites became rather bizarrely amusing.”

Vin was regarding him with a combination worry and confusion in his crystal blue eyes. It was a look Ezra was familiar with, since his companion seemed to wear it often when he was concerned. That suddenly also struck him as amusing and he laughed, looking at the book still in his hand.

“And what literary masterpiece has you so enthralled?”

“Ezra….”

“’Poetical Works,’” Ezra read.

He had heard once that men shouldn’t be described as blushing; it was too feminine a term. There was no other word for the rush of blood up Vin’s face.

“Can’t read most of it anyway,” Vin muttered under his breath.

Ezra loved when Vin blushed, loved the husky tone his voice got when he was caught at something romantic. Immediately, he flipped to the front page, searching for a price. He took a sharp breath when he found it. It was too expensive for the funds he had left.

As if understanding everything he was thinking, Vin said in that same hoarse voice, “Reckon we can make our poetry, Ezra.”

Giving him a warm smile, Ezra stood. “I informed Mister Sanchez that we would rendezvous with him at the hotel.”

Another long roll of thunder sounded loud enough to shake the window. Rain pounded hard on the roof, could be seen running down the sidewalks and in the gutters.  
“Reckon, we better make a run for it,” Vin said.

They started toward the front, Ezra still holding the book.

“How was Josiah taking being there?” Vin asked.

“I thought you might catch the unease our companion had upon entering the Lord’s house,” Ezra observed. Laying the book on the counter he told the clerk, “Thank you, sir. We will try to come back for it.” It was more than just words. Ezra promised himself if there were any funds left; he would buy the book for Vin.

The clerk only shrugged as they turned to leave. Standing under the awning over the door of the shop, Ezra said, “Josiah seemed to relax as the conversation went on, though I think it more that the details of the memorial arrangements kept him from dwelling on it.”

“Think your ma picked that church cause Josiah’s been there before?”

“Why would she do that?” Ezra questioned, stopping with his hand on the doorknob.

“Don’t know,” Vin admitted. “She was real good at getting things done, maybe she had a reason.”

They made it back to the hotel though both were soaked through. Mister Fontaine met them near the door, handing them two large terry towels.

“Thank you, sir,” Ezra said as he began to pat dry his drenched clothing.

“Shall I have lunch sent up for you and your companions?”

“That would be excellent,” Ezra agreed. “As soon as you see Mister Sanchez coming by, could you please send up three crab meals.”

“Outstanding choice,” Fontaine complimented him.

Vin was shedding his coat and shirt even before the door closed behind him, hanging the items on the mantel. Ezra went by him into the bedroom, also removing is wet clothes but hanging them carefully on the wooden rack near the window. He started to turn around, only to have Vin wrap his arms around his shoulders from behind.

Sliding around, Ezra answered him with a deep, searching kiss. When he eased away, he merely smiled. “No, I believe I can accomplish that myself.”

Again, Vin slipped in close, easing Ezra’s hands away to start on the buttons himself. With a slight laugh, Ezra leaned into the touch, wrapping his arms around Vin’s neck, kissing along his chin. Vin slipped his hand into the open pants, sighing as Ezra’s lips continued down his neck.

“Guess there ain’t much need to wait until….”

“You boys decent?” Josiah suddenly yelled from the other room loud enough to be heard over the intense storm.

Ezra jumped back, still skittish when caught in a compromising situation. Vin, on the other hand, smiled and hollered back, “Not for much longer.”

Josiah’s laugh echoed through the two rooms. “I am wet and hungry. I am about to dry off then to order a huge meal, and a bottle of wine, and when I am done I’ll let you know what transpired between me and Father MacAlroy. If y’all got better things to do, get ‘em done.”

“Lunch has been ordered, Mister Sanchez,” Ezra yelled back.

Vin eased his hand out of Ezra’s pants, ran one hand through his own wet hair and one through Ezra’s. For the first time he noticed the rain cascading down the window. “Reckon getting warm might be good idea. You get a chill and Nathan ain’t never gonna let me hear the end of it.”

“I saw nothing wrong with the method for getting warm you were pursuing,” Ezra complained, even as he dropped his pants and reached for the towel. He sighed a little, his promise to Nathan to see a doctor suddenly remembered.

Grabbing him in a tight hold, Vin claimed his mouth, tongue playing along his lips, slipping in then pulling away. With a deep sigh, Vin said, “Being sensible is a right pain sometimes.”

A few minutes later, all three men were comfortably sprawled on various pieces of furniture in the main room. Josiah already dry and wrapped in one of the large terry towels, while his two companions rubbed the last of the rain out of their hair. Outside the gale continued unabated.

“I am grateful that Mr. Fontaine has such an impressive menu,” Ezra shrugged into the towel around his shoulders as he reached to refill their wine glasses.

“Suppose it might be” Vin said, “seeing as how I didn’t understand a thing you ordered.”

“Trust me. You will enjoy every delicious bite.”

Casting a glance at Josiah that was filled with mischief, Vin said, “I seem to remember some chili peppers that you thought were a good idea, too.”

Ezra sputtered, blushing. Seeing the humor in Vin’s expression, Josiah laughed at whatever had caused the gambler to look so chagrined.

Defensively, Ezra explained, “I am far more familiar with civilized cuisine than the barbaric offerings in our part of the world.”

“Don’t think I’d let Inez hear you say that about her cooking,” Vin laughed. “or you’ll be pulling peppers out of someplace don’t bear thinking about.”

All three laughed. With a sigh, Ezra looked over at Josiah. “Josiah, what should we be doing to prepare for Mother’s memorial?”

Josiah gave a bit of a half-way nod. “Not much to do. Maude took care of most things: flowers are paid for, even a stipend for the choir. I need to know which scriptures we want read."

Ezra choked a little on his wine. “Scripture?” Giving Vin a disbelieving look, he said, “I never understood her.”

Having no response, Josiah continued, “You have to pick out the flowers. Would you like to pick out the two hymns?”

To Josiah’s amusement, Ezra gave a short laugh. “I suppose the ones we used when running the revival cons would do.”

“Write them down for me,” Josiah suggested. He didn’t comment on their previous use.

“I need to find a stone maker,” Ezra said. “I’m not sure if I can cover the cost currently, but if I make the arrangement now, I can send the payment later.”

“How soon all this gonna happen?” Vin asked.

Shaking his head, Josiah admitted, “Depends on what gets done next couple of days. Father MacAlroy will have more information for me tomorrow.” Catching Vin’s eyes, he said, “If we were to go out and get the flowers and…”

“Mister Sanchez,” Ezra said firmly, “I am dry and warm. If you wish to brave this monsoon, please, you have my blessing.”

Josiah laughed. “Guess it can wait till morning. I can check with the Father at noon to see if he has anything more to tell me.”

“Excellent,” Ezra said, “We will meet with Mister Matthews in the morning, then proceed to meet you for lunch and then see to our various assignments.”


	11. Chapter 11

Buck kicked his right foot up on the sheriff’s office front post and leaned the chair back, smiling and dipping his hat to Sarah across the street. She smiled back at him. Taking this as a good sign, he let the chair come back to the planks and started to rise. Before he could make it to his feet though, JD’s hand came down on his shoulder.

“We got a problem, Buck,” he said quietly.

“What?” Buck snapped, watching Sarah continue on down the street.

Giving up on the pursuit, he pushed his hat back and sighed. He stood up and faced JD. “What now?”

Nathan picked that minute to walk pass them, carrying a box of bottles of alcohol bound for his clinic. “Hold up, Nathan. JD says we got a problem.”

Glancing between the two of them, Nathan put the box down on Buck’s chair. “What you got?”

“Well, okay, maybe not a problem exactly,” JD said with an embarrassed look.

“JD….” Buck started.

“There’s some guy in Mabel’s place asking about Ezra.”

Buck glared at him. “And this is a problem why?”

“Buck,” JD said sharply. “You got to admit that every time some stranger shows up asking about one of us, it’s usually a problem.”

“He has got a point,” Nathan agreed.

“Yeah,” Buck conceded.

“What you want to do about the guy?” JD asked.

“What’s he look like?” Nathan asked.

“Eastern dude,” JD explained, “carrying a big sample case. Like a peddler.”

“What did he want to know about Ezra?” Buck continued.

JD said, “He asked Mabel if she knew if Ezra was in town.”

“What did Mabel say?”

“Said she wasn’t sure.”

“That sounds pretty harmless,” Nathan observed.

Shaking his head, Buck said, “Maybe. Goddamn, those two can raise a fuss without even being here. Reckon I better go talk to him.”

Before he could more, Nathan stopped him. “Let me. Man’s liable to say more to someone he don’t think would be a friend to Ezra.”

“All yours,” Buck said, picking up the box. “I’ll get these upstairs and you let us know.”

The doorbell jingled lightly as Nathan walked in and was immediately hit with the smell of apple pie. He glanced toward the kitchen, nodding toward Mabel. She tilted her head slightly to the right. Nathan followed her gesture. It would have been easy to spot the man without her help. In the middle of the afternoon there were only two people in the small place, a local farmer and the salesman.

JD had been dead on with his description. The man was short, thin, was wearing a well-worn, but good suit and a bowler hat much like JD’s. At his feet was a large, square sample case, closed with two brass latches.

“Mabel, that smells great! Can I get a piece?”

“On the way, Nathan,” Mabel yelled from the kitchen.

Nathan eased through the tables and chairs, stopped next to the stranger. The man looked up suddenly, though Nathan couldn’t tell if the surprised look he got was due to someone being there or the someone being black.

“Sir,” Nathan said politely. “I hear you’re looking for Ezra Standish.”

Finishing his mouthful of food, the man nodded toward the chair opposite him. Nathan took his hat off and sat down. “I’m Nathan Jackson.”

To his surprise the man offered his hand. Nathan shook it. “I’m Jeremy Webster. Are you a friend of Mister Standish’s?”

“We’re both lawmen here.”

“So I was given to understand.”

Mabel put Nathan’s piece of pie and a glass of milk down in front of him. “Anything else, Nathan?”

“Thanks, Mable. Mr. Webster here might want a piece.”

“No, thank you.” He smiled at the woman. “The lunch was outstanding and I’m quite satisfied.”

It was hard for Nathan not to smile at how much the man sounded like Ezra. Maintaining his serious look, he picked up is fork and took a bite of pie. “Standish?” he asked.

“Oh yes,” Webster said. “It is nothing very important. We both know a gentleman from New Orleans. The man heard about the passing of Mister Standish’s mother and, knowing I was heading this way, asked if I could pass on his condolences if I meet up with him.”

“Sorry, to say, you’re about two weeks too late,” Nathan explained. He started to ask why Simpson would have thought Ezra would still be in Four Corners and not New Orleans but something made him remain silent on that.

To his surprise Webster seemed to understand. “I was rather surprised that my friend would not think him already in New Orleans.”

“Wish I could tell you where he is in New Orleans but I ain’t sure where he is staying.” Nathan took another bite of pie.

“Thank you for your help, Mister Jackson,” Webster stood, dropped his napkin on the table. “As I said, it was not very important.”

“How long you gonna be around?” Nathan questioned.

“Not long. I am going to show my samples around Four Corners then head to Banderlera then back here to catch the stage.”

Nathan offered his hand. “Good luck on your sales, Mister Webster.”

The man shook his hand, stood, tipped his hat, picked up his case and left.

Staying long enough to finish off his pie, Nathan dropped his money on the table, waved to Mabel and walked across the street to where JD and Buck were waiting.

Frowning and with a slight shake of his head, he repeated the conversation in the café. But before either of the other two lawmen could ask anything, he said, “It all sounded innocent enough.”

“Maybe this guy just wanted to find out if Ezra was in New Orleans before looking for him?” JD speculated.

Buck sat down, tugging on his mustache. “Maybe.” He glanced up at Nathan. “Let’s keep an eye on the man, anything else come up, we’ll let Ezra know.”


	12. Chapter 12

“Does it ever stop raining here?” Vin said looking north.

“No. And I for one do not wish to endure sitting in wet attire while Mister Matthews talks, so I suggest we increase our speed,” Ezra said.

He stepped on ahead of Vin, though he could feel the intense blue eyes following his every move. Vin had been studying him since they had left the cemetery the day before. Neither he nor Josiah had asked the question they had voiced so often since their departure from Four Corners - how he was doing. It seemed his two friends had decided that he was standing up to everything rather well, so it was best to just leave him alone. He had decided that they felt he would talk to them when he needed or let the silence heal his heart.

Ezra came to a sudden stop in front of a massive wooden building. Vin’s shoulder brushed his as the lanky Texan came up beside him. Walking the streets, staring at the new buildings, memories and reality had once more taken his thoughts. New Orleans had gotten bigger – and more expensive. The breakfast he had treated Josiah and Vin to had cost him double what it would have only… Had it really been fifteen years now since he’d walked these streets?

“Ain’t lost there, are ya, Ezra?” Vin joked lightly, calling his attention back to where they were.

“Nonsense, Mister Tanner,” Ezra said as he pulled open the heavy glass and wood door. “As you are completely at home in the vulgar wilderness, so I am more than comfortable with the streets and alleys of civilization.”

As they stepped in he saw Vin tug at his suspenders then nervously smooth down his hair. Ezra frowned. His mind might wander so that he lost track of which building he was standing in front of, but he could feel Vin’s discomfort from miles away. The narrow hall was empty. Ezra turned and slapped at Vin’s hand.

“Vin, if you continue to fidget I shall have to send you home,” he said in an overly parental tone.

Vin was too worried to notice. “Sorry, Ezra. Just ain’t –“

Ezra didn’t know who was more startled by the kiss, him or Vin. He jerked back, having barely touched Vin’s lips but it was enough to shut him up. They stared at each other. Then Vin’s eyes lit up and Ezra found himself smiling.

“Damn,” Vin drawled. “Here I thought that only worked on you.”

“Well,” Ezra agreed as he once more moved down the corridor. “It is certainly a more preferable method to gain my silence than that of Mister Larabee’s, “Shut up, Ezra!””

Behind him Vin laughed. The still unexpected tingle of warmth, having nothing to do with desire filled his chest. He liked making Vin laugh, liked easing his worry. Shaking his head, amazed at the turn his life had taken, he also admitted that he liked feeling useful. The thought once more came to him that his mother would have been appalled. This time thoughts of his mother brought only a dull ache in his chest.

At the end of the hall was another door, dark wood with a silver metal piece on it that read “Robert Matthews, Esq.” Ezra opened the door into a small, well-finished office filled from floor to ceiling with wooden crates, bookcases and filing cabinets. A massive desk claimed most of the rest of the floor, leaving only enough room for two stuffed, cowhide-covered chairs directly in front of it. The only description Ezra could think of was ‘controlled chaos.’

If the room was small, the man behind the desk was not. Ezra shook his head in amazement. Matthews had always been a large man but the easy life of an attorney in New Orleans had settled in extra pounds on his already big frame. The illusion of size was aided by the full, neatly trimmed beard the covered his face and highlighted his dark eyes.  
“Ezra!”

Robert Matthews stood up from behind the desk. Ezra smiled and stepped forward, grasping the large hand that was thrust toward him. “Mister Matthews.”

“It’s good to see you again, son, though I am sorry about the circumstances.”

Ezra nodded; once more amazed at the sincerity that everyone was showing. His mother had conned more people than he knew. “Thank you, sir.” Turning toward Vin, he said, “Let me introduce you to Mister Tanner, one of the men I work with.”

The big lawyer smiled at Vin, shaking his hand heartily. “I would have never believed it, Ezra Standish, a lawman.”

Vin gave Ezra a quick half-smile. “Reckon he’s as surprised as you are.”

Matthews laughed, moving carefully around the chairs to take his seat again. When he turned back though, sorrow had replaced the joy of reunion. “Ezra, I am very sorry about your mother’s passing.”

Ezra slipped through the narrow gap and took one of the chairs while Vin took the other. “I owe you a great deal of gratitude, Mr. Matthews,” Ezra said. “It must have been difficult taking care of the burial.”

“You know how your mother was, Ezra,” Matthews said. “She had everything laid out well in advance.”

“Yes, apparently, she was quite clear in her wishes to everyone but me.” Ezra didn’t know why it bothered him that everyone seemed to know what Maude had wanted but him. Matthews had taken care of the interment; Josiah was arranging the memorial service. While none of the emotions reached his face, he felt as if she had once more shut him out, leaving things to people better suited to take care of them.

“Maybe,” Vin level voice carried to him, “she just didn’t want to burden you with it.”

He turned slightly to find himself caught by the honesty in Vin’s expression. For just an instant, he let his appreciation touch his own look, before once more dropping his poker face back into place. Turning to Matthews, he brought them back to the subject.

“Mister Matthews, concerning the debt incurred by mother’s estate…” Ezra started.

“Misses Standish’s estate was completely in order,” Matthews explained. “She paid for the burial several months ago, even had me go out and make sure the family plot was, quote: “in decent repair and proper condition.””

Ezra couldn’t keep the surprise from reaching his face over the statement. While he knew Maude had paid for the hotel, he had not realized she had taken care of everything else as well. Somehow, he had expected her to owe money to someone for something. The fact that she had also paid for the funeral surprised him even more. His mother had never been one to consider, talk about or even think about death.

“Ezra,” Matthews said quietly, calling his attention back. “There is still the matter of the will... and a few other things.”

Matthews’s eyes cut to Vin for just an instant, asking Ezra what to do. Ezra gestured toward Vin. “You may discuss matters of any nature in front of Mister Tanner, sir. He has, on several occasions, saved my life and I trust him explicitly.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Vin shift a little in embarrassment. True to his nature, the tracker remained silent. Matthews studied both men for a moment, then nodded. Shifting through some of the papers on his desk, he withdrew a large envelope with a string clasp.

“Very well. While Misses Standish did pay for everything concerning her funeral she, unfortunately, didn’t leave very much in the estate.”

“Mother always believed one should make their own way,” Ezra said, feeling more comfortable with this side of his mother.

“She did that,” Matthews confirmed with an amused tone. He didn’t glance down at the paper as he said, “There were only four recipients listed in the will.”

Pausing, he reached into his vest pocket for a pair of spectacles before starting to read. “I, Maude Pauline Standish, do hereby leave and bequeath the following: To Misses Mary Travis, a box of jewelry. I’ve long since forgotten which is real and which is for appearances but hope she enjoys it either way.”

The sudden image of Mary wearing finery like Maude popped into Ezra's mind, complete with a top hatted Chris Larabee on her arm. He couldn't stop the slight smile that touched his face.  
“To Josiah Sanchez, I leave a large gold cross. I won it off a fake priest years ago. Lord knows why I kept it but I’m sure Josiah can use it in that austere church of his.”

Surprise colored both lawmen’s expressions. Vin’s eyes warmed, making Ezra look away. It was like he was trying to say he had known all along that Maude wasn’t the horror she made out. Ezra still wasn’t sure he believed that, firmly believing that noticed mortality made converts of a lot of people. That thought made him feel guilty, and he forced himself to once more remember Josiah’s words on the train.

“To Mister Vin Tanner –“

All of Ezra’s attention came back to the lawyer. He felt the tracker stiffen slightly in his seat

“—I leave the box and letter in Mister Matthews’s capable keeping. I would also ask Mister Tanner to remember the promise made to me during my last visit in Four Corners.”

Matthews paused, giving Vin a searching look that was returned with steady seriousness. The large man turned to a cabinet behind him, playing with the lock for a minute. As he did, Ezra gave Vin a sideways nod, remembering the startling promise that Maude had extracted from the shy tracker. Vin gave him a quiet smile, the one that crinkled up his eyes.

They both had their expressions under control by the time Matthews had finished playing with the lock and turned back. He handed the jewelry box and a black velvet bag that contained the gold cross over to Ezra. Ezra frowned as he recognized the other box, a plain wooden one that was one of the few items his mother always seemed to have carried with her. That and a letter were handed to Vin. Ezra waited but after a minute it became clear that Vin was not going to open it there.

“Finally, to my son Ezra Standish, I leave the rest of my estate, the sum of which Mister Matthews will be able to relate.”

The attorney looked up, taking his glasses off. “That was the will. Ezra, she also left this for you.”

It was a plain white envelope. His hands shook slightly as he caught the invisible scent of his mother’s perfume. His name was written out in the fine delicate script that was Maude’s normal handwriting, though he had seen her be able to copy any other, a talent she had passed on to her only son.  
“Mister Matthews….”

“Ezra,” Matthews cut in. “There is something else we need to discuss. Only it’s not from your mother.”

Ezra looked up, found hesitation in Matthews’ expression. He gave a quick look to Vin, was met with a shrug. “Ain’t got no place to be,” Vin said shortly.  
Before Ezra could form an answer, Matthews said, “It’s something your step-father –“

Ezra was out of the chair and office before either man could move.

For a split second Vin didn’t know what had happened. He had seen Ezra move like lightning during a fight but this…. “Excuse me,” he muttered, dropping the items from Maude in his chair to sprint after Ezra.

It was only two other people in the narrow hall that slowed Ezra down enough to allow Vin to catch him. His hand wrapped around Ezra’s upper arm just as the smaller man reached for the door handle.  
“Ezra!”

Ezra came around, anger blazing in his normally controlled expression. Vin threw his arm up to stop the blow he was sure was coming. But Ezra merely stepped back, lips in a thin tight line. Vin watched him struggle to get his emotions under their normally tight rein. After a minute, the tautness of the muscles under his hand loosened and he let go.

“There is nothing I want to hear from my step-father,” Ezra said firmly.

Not sure how to respond, Vin dropped his head down a little and chewed on his lip. “Ezra, I don’t know shit about what might a gone on with your family –“

“Fifteen years,” Ezra said harshly. “Fifteen years and not a word. I didn’t even know he had died until I read it in a New Orleans paper eight months after his death.”

To Vin there seemed a very plain answer to this. “He’s got something to say now, Ezra. Maybe for both y’alls sake you oughta hear him out.”

“Vin…. I don’t know that I want to hear… “

“I’ll be right there, Ezra,” he promised.

The green eyes met his and Vin saw a whirlwind of emotions in them, disappointment, anger and sorrow. He answered the feelings by letting Ezra see all he felt for the stubborn man standing next to him; love, confidence, belief. The battle of wills went on for what felt like a long time, but finally Ezra drew a sharp breath and nodded once.

“Come on, sooner we hear this out, sooner we can eat,” Vin encouraged.

It was enough to bring a smile to Ezra’s face. “There is a charming old French restaurant that I am more than passing familiar with nearby.”

They narrowly missed hitting Matthews with the door as they came back in. Ezra came back in as if expecting a rattlesnake to be under the desk. The minute he sat down though, Vin watched him immediately change his manner. Ezra was suddenly all calm professionalism.

“My apologies, Mister Matthew. I was startled a bit by your announcement,” he said smoothly.

Matthews gave a quick glanced toward Vin, obviously startled with the change. Vin only stared back at him. “Yes,” Matthews once more cleared his throat. “Ezra, I just didn’t know a tactful way of bringing this up.”

“Understandable, Mister Matthews. You were saying?”

Not wanting to take too much time and allow Ezra to change his mind, Matthews said, “Your step-father left you a trust fund.”

Ezra straightened, leaning forward in his chair, his eyes lit up at the very mention of funds. Vin almost laughed at the sudden interest from his partner. Despite all the changes Ezra had undergone, the lure of money would always be strong. To his amazement though, Ezra’s first question wasn’t the amount.

“Why am I just now being made aware of this?” he asked.

The big lawyer looked up, regret in his expression. “Anthony Simpson set up the trust for two reasons, the first was to cover your schooling and the second was to pay out his will only after your mother passed away.”

The temperature in the room dropped noticeable, the chill radiating off Ezra in waves. It still confused Vin how Ezra could defend his mother against the slightest hint of insult, and still know the truth of her. For an instant Vin thought he would have to chase him down again but Ezra held his seat and his temper. For a long minute no one said anything.

It was Vin who finally broke the silence. “So, Ezra’s father –“

“He was actually my third step-father,” Ezra said lowly, obviously still trying to come to terms with the situation.

“He paid for Ezra’s schooling?” Vin asked.

“Yes, from the time they left New Orleans, Mister Simpson provided money for tutors, school and academy. And he wanted Ezra to have part of his estate.”

“My mother was aware of this obviously,” Ezra said.

Matthews nodded. “Your mother agreed to the payment of schooling as part of the divorce settlement. She wanted you to be educated and feared that she wouldn’t be able to afford. Simpson arranged for the monies to be paid directly to the tutors or school.”

“Ezra,” he continued, “as far as the inheritance, let’s be honest with each other. We both know that if he had willed the money to you at any time prior to Maude’s passing, she would have ended up with it eventually.”

“True, unfortunately,” Ezra agreed. “My mother, as we all know, was very good at what she did. So, my understanding is that my step-father wrote me into his will then had the money put into a trust until my mother passed away.”

Once again Matthews started digging into a different envelope. “That’s it exactly. I have no idea of the current amount. Here is all you should need to collect it; bank number and proper documentation.” Hesitantly, he added, “And a letter to you.”

With a feigned air of disinterest, Ezra took the paper and glanced down at it. Without any sign of reaction, he tucked the paper in to his inside vest pocket. Vin looked a little closer but Ezra was turned slightly away, making it hard for him to see the easy-to-read green eyes.

"What became of Isle of Green?” Ezra asked, completely confusing Vin.

"The Simpson plantation was willed to Morgan. It was quite profitable, even after the war, until Morgan took over. I understand it is up for sale.” Matthews frowned, tugging at his lip. "Ezra, Morgan is not going to like it if he finds out about this trust fund. He has managed to squander most of his inheritance except for the town home and warehouse."

"Is there a legal way for him to challenge the fund?”

"No,” Matthews answered quickly enough that Vin got the impression he had already checked on it. "It was very thoroughly protected."

Ezra gave a shrug. "I don’t see how he would even be aware of it. If Mister Simpson does discover the matter, I see little else he can do other than cause a scene. I shouldn't be concerned since Mister Tanner and I will be returning west very shortly."

Nodding, Matthews didn't look completely convinced. "You will have to go to the bank, of course, to sign the transfer. Do you have any other questions about the will or trust fund?"

There was silence for a minute, then, Ezra said, "Everything is quiet clear, Mister Matthews. I may return on other business but for now I am satisfied with the clarity of matters."

Matthews let out a big sigh. “I'd say that concludes the business part of this meeting then. Now, is there anything I can do to help with the memorial arrangements?”

Ezra shook his head. “My other traveling companion is handling that based on my mother’s instructions. I will ask him to contact you if he requires any assistance.”


	13. Chapter 13

Josiah stared at the cross in his hand. The cross brought up so many questions that he had considered before. Had it been fate that led seven complete strangers to come together? To become more than the seven? Why would Maude have held on to a cross worth hundreds of dollars unless something had led her to believe she would have a use for it later? He knew what he believed, and the shiny cross was only one more small proof of it.

Blinking a little to control his tears, Josiah looked up at Ezra. "Your mother could be quite generous when the mood hit her."

Ezra, still rubbing his hair dry after another drenching, snorted. "Yes, well, the mood rarely hit her."

Josiah laughed at the soaked look of his two companions. “Am I the only one smart enough to stay out of the rain?” Ignoring the glares aimed at him, he reached for his wineglass. Raising the glass, he said, "To Maude, an original lady." 

Laughing, Ezra lay the towel down and picked up his own glass. "On that, sir, we can agree."

They sipped the wine, letting the fine liquor and quiet surroundings relax them. Ezra broke the silence by saying, "Now, Mister Sanchez, what is on our itinerary?"

"If it is acceptable, Ezra, Father MacAlroy and I thought we should make a formal announcement in the New Orleans's Democrat, as well as sending out notices by courier to some of the towns up river, concerning the memorial on Tuesday.”

"Tuesday?” Ezra questioned. "That's a week away."

"It will take the paper and the notices that long to make folks aware of the date,” Josiah explained.

Ezra sighed. "That means we won’t be able to proceed to Austin until Wednesday in order to catch the stage home.”

Josiah didn't miss the surprised look Vin gave their friend. The tracker didn't say anything but Josiah could sense that he was pleased with Ezra's planned trip home. "Can't go at it any faster, Ezra. Not and make sure it's a big affair."

Vin reached out and touched Ezra's arm. "Thought you were gonna show me New Orleans?"

It was Ezra who looked startled this time. Another thought brought a frown to his face. “Once the announcements are made it would not be proper for me to been seen enjoying the sites of New Orleans.”

“Ezra -” Josiah started, only to be cut off by Vin.

“Ezra, I ain’t sure what’s proper and what ain’t, seems to be if’n you want to see some sights ain’t no one gonna notice but me and Josiah.”

A thoughtful look came over Ezra’s face and he rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip. “There is something to be said for ignoring propriety.”

“I think,” Josiah added, “that Maude would be proud of you for ignoring propriety.”

“She might have thought highly of society but that didn’t stop her from going her own way,” Vin reminded him.

Ezra laughed. “She despised society. It was only the money that she admired.”

“Reckon a night or two out would be kind of nice,” Vin agreed. A second later though his enthusiasm faded. “Reckon we’re gonna need some cash for nights out though."

The smile Ezra gave them brought out all his dimples and flashed his gold tooth. "Gentlemen, I think Anthony Simpson can afford to outfit us. Even given a small amount deposited twenty years ago, there should be enough in the fund to cover a few niceties, some more clothes for each of us, perhaps a fine night out. I wonder if the symphony is in season."

"Ezra….” Vin started.

Ezra waved off the confusion of the other two. "A quick jaunt to the bank, then a more extended trip to the haberdashers will take care of our needs.”

A knock at the door interrupted him. The gambler took a quick, final gulp of his wine and sprang for the door. A twinge of anger hit Josiah at Ezra's sudden lighthearted attitude. Guilt followed the anger. Ezra had been in serious mourning since they had left Four Corners, to have something to take his mind off it, however temporarily, was not something to condemn. Josiah knew that right now the excitement had overridden the sorrow but the grief would be back, maybe a little less harsh but there.

The discussion was cut short by the arrival of their dinner. Josiah noticed that this meal did not include any wine. He had wondered about the amount of money Ezra had left but decided it was best not to ask.

Instead, as he poured them some lemonade, Josiah asked, “Where’s this bank?”

Ezra’s expression stayed bright. “I believe the banking establishment is near the docks and would allow us a chance to see if there are any of the riverboats in port."

"Us?” Josiah smiled. "I don't recall needing to see any riverboats."

Ezra tilted his head. "It was my understanding that everyone wanted to view the magnificent boats at least once."

“View boats or play a little poker?” Vin asked with fake innocence.

“Poker, while in the fair city to attend a funeral, would hardly be proper.” Ezra’s outraged look didn’t seem to impress Vin. “However, since some of Mother’s best friends frequented the many gambling establishments that ply the mighty Mississippi; it might be considered our duty to be certain all of them are aware of the situation.

Josiah shook his head, smiling at Vin. “Ezra, shut up and eat.”

The afternoon rolled by even as the new storm plowed over the city. Josiah dozed quietly on the couch, while Vin practiced his writing and reading. It was only when he realized how quiet Ezra was that Vin rose from the small writing desk and joined his love at the window seat. Ezra’s smile warmed him, and Vin touched his hand.

“Okay?” Vin asked softly.

“You might find this amusing, Vin, but I was actually enjoying the view of the city.” Ezra gestured out the window over the small wroth iron railing to the street below.

The rain had stopped a little earlier; the sun was easing down toward dusk, casting velvet light down the nearly empty streets. The glow reflected off the windows, the balconies, and the shiny wet cobblestones, giving the street the look of a masterful painting.

Vin leaned in a little closer; put his arm around Ezra’s shoulders. “That’s pretty.”

“Of all the cities I have had the pleasure of visiting, New Orleans is the one I love,” Ezra said with a wistful smile.

Vin felt a hint of wariness over Ezra’s love of the old town. “Well, reckon, we oughta plan on coming back someday.”

They stayed there in comfortable silence as the glittering sunlight gave way to long shadows then to starlit darkness and finally to the lamplighter casting the street in an artificial golden light. The mood was broken by Josiah snorting suddenly and coming awake. The two look at each other and laughed.

"Reckon if we got a lot to do come morning, we'd better get to bed now,” Vin said.

Before Ezra could argue, Vin urged him to his feet.

Yawning, Ezra agreed, “It has been a lengthy day."

Josiah rose and stretched. "As much as I love to see the world, traveling can be a curse that takes a while to recover from."

"Shall we say nine for breakfast?” Ezra suggested, knowing exactly what Vin's reaction would be.

"Hell, Ezra, what'll I do while waiting for you to get your skinny ass out of bed?” he demanded.

If Josiah had not been standing in front of them, Ezra would have reminded Vin that he did not usually consider his ass to be particularly thin. Instead, he exchanged a quick wink with Josiah and said, "Well, Mister Tanner, since going out and shooting anything on the streets would be frowned upon, it would probably be in our best interest to keep you out of trouble by rising a bit earlier. Shall we say, shudder, seven?"

Vin was taking the joking in stride. "That sounds fine. Give me a chance to sleep in, catch up a little."

When Ezra rolled his eyes, Josiah laughed. "I'll just run down and tell Mister Fontaine what time to deliver breakfast. Goodnight, boys."

Ezra followed Vin into the bedroom. He was tired, not so much in body but with the overwhelming emotional whirlwind he had been through. Despite the teasing earlier, he wasn't sure he was ready for anything more strenuous than kissing. With a sigh, he closed the door. There were also the letters to be read and digested as well.

Strong arms wrapped around him, pulled him back against Vin's lean body. Smoothing the velvet robe over Ezra's chest, Vin kissed along his neck. "Think it'd be best to get some sleep tonight, Ezra,” he whispered.

Turning in the strong circle of arms, Ezra smiled at the concerned look in Vin's beautiful eyes. "How do you manage to know what I need even when I am doing my best to deny it?"

Vin's lips covered his for a moment. "Reckon its cause I love ya."

"You don’t mind postponing our sexual adventures for an evening?"

"Got all our lives,” Vin said, moving the kisses to Ezra's cheek.

"Vin?"

"Um…."

"If you don't discontinue your present course, we are not going to get to bed early."

Vin laughed, eased away and moved toward the washbasin. A minute later, he was stretched out on the bed, the sheet and heavy blanket kicked to the bottom of the bed.

Draping his robe over the back of the settee, Ezra came to stand next to the bed. Vin's eyes flicked up to his, ignoring the partially risen cock that was pointing in his direction.

“Whatever gave me the notion that I could resist your charms long enough to get to….”

Giving up on joking, Ezra jumped on the bed, and in one quick move straddled Vin’s thighs, noting the thick shaft that was swelling between Vin's legs. Any exhaustion seemed to have been forgotten in the lust rising in his nerves. He claimed Vin's mouth, sliding his tongue into hot, wet haven. Vin gave a little moan, swirling his tongue around Ezra's. Ezra eased away, turned his attention to one of Vin's nipples. Despite the more than willing spirit, he knew the flesh wasn't going to keep up for very long.

A grin that he barely contained came to his mouth. From the beginning, their preferences in sexual foreplay had been as varied as their personalities. Ezra liked fast and hard, liked to feel the power in Vin's moves. Vin was more interested in driving Ezra crazy by taking him to the edge then back down, all the while in prefect control. Because of being the more experienced, Vin tended to lead and teach. The end result was both of them ending many nights exhausted and satisfied.

But Ezra wasn't a natural observer for nothing. He had learned a few tricks in their time together, even though they sometimes went long periods without knowing the pleasure of each other. Tonight, he was going to be the one to lead.

He bit slightly at Vin’s right nipple, heard a gasp from Vin, felt the callused hands tangle in his hair. Pulling back fractionally, he blew softly over the one he had nipped, at the same time pinching the other one hard. This time Vin arched off the bed, throwing his hands out to this side as he surged up. Ezra continued his assault, mouth alternating between the two erotic spots, while his hand dropped to take Vin's hard cock.

“Ezra….” Vin pleaded.

A wicked smile curled Ezra’s lips. It was exactly what he hoped to hear. Ezra had discovered that Vin’s own sensuality would betray him, if control were taken early. With that in mind, he took over, abandoning the tiny nipples, sliding down the lean body until he was on his knees between Vin’s leg. He reached for the large shaft, tightening his fist around the base as he sucked it slowly into his mouth. Vin bucked again, hands coming down to tighten in Ezra’s hair. Ezra only increased his pace, letting Vin’s cock slip into his throat as he swallowed around it.

“Damn….” Vin whimpered.

With one hand squeezing the base of the taut cock, Ezra moved his other hand off Vin’s hip to roll the taut balls. He could feel Vin’s struggle to hold still, but it wasn’t working. Sliding up until only the flared head remained in his mouth, Ezra teased at the foreskin with his lips, tugging it up a little before rolling it down, while he let his fingers drift to the tight entrance to Vin’s body. Swirling around the rosy head, he flicked his tongue over the slit, moaning at the taste.

He felt Vin take a deep breath, trying to discipline his frantic need. Ezra would have smiled but at that moment he once more took Vin’s cock deep into his throat. Vin arched up with a harsh cry.

The cry raced through Ezra, sending a surge of heat into his nerves. Ezra started sucking, needing to feel Vin’s coming, to know the strength he could control, if only for a little while. Whatever rein he held on Vin for a few minutes vanished under the need in his own veins. Swallowing around the cock, he moaned, the sound echoed by Vin. Their movements became one, give and take, ancient rhythms that emptied the room of oxygen.

Vin’s breathing became uneven, and Ezra held still, eyes closed, waiting, ready. The heavy cock in his mouth pulsed and thick fluid flooded his throat. He swallowed out of instinct even as his hand dropped from Vin’s cock to his own. Vin gasped, surging up one last time before falling back. Ezra jerked hard on his own shaft twice as release rushed through him, spilling fluid over his hand.

Ezra got his eyes open, glanced up the long, lean body and smiled around Vin’s cock. Vin looked wanton and spent, erotic and drained. The same feelings hit Ezra just as suddenly, dizziness following the temporary lack of air. He eased off the softening cock, collapsing onto the bed next to Vin.

Warm arms wrapped around him, tugged the blanket up over both of them. Ezra smiled. “Interesting how the temperature raises when I am in your proximity.”

A wide yawn stopped Vin from saying anything. When he did, all Ezra heard was, “…firecracker…” before he drifted off to sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

The bed shifted and Vin held his breath. After the emotional storm they had experienced that day, and after the pleasant sex, Vin had hoped Ezra would sleep through the night. It was not to be; there was a subtle shift in the mattress, a draft of air down his back, and the sense that he was alone in the bed. He rolled over, surprised to find Ezra standing only a few feet away. Lying still, Vin waited to see if Ezra were merely going to the chamber pot.

“Vin?” Ezra whispered, surprising him.

“Yeah.”

“Did I wake you?”

Vin sat up, chuckling. “Be kinda hard to answer if I won’t’n.”

Not picking up on the humor, Ezra said, “My apologizes. I should have –“

“What’s wrong?” Vin asked.

He had expected to be reminded that Maude’s memorial service was in seven days. Instead, Ezra said, “I want to read the letters.”

The statement didn’t surprise Vin either. He had gone to sleep thinking about what might be in the three letters. “Okay.”

The storm had dragged cold weather behind it, chilling the stones of the old hotel. Snatching two blankets off the bed, Vin handed one to Ezra and a few minutes later, wrapped in blankets, they were sitting on the settee in the corner of the room. Vin had coaxed the iron stove back to life, so that a subtle glow joined the lamp to provide Ezra with light. Vin waited for Ezra to start, but only silence claimed the night.

After a minute, Vin volunteered, “Reckon, it’d be easier to start with mine.”

The emerald eyes looked hopefully up at him, searching for an excuse to put off what Ezra knew would be difficult. “Why do you hold this opinion?”

“Well, maybe not easier but, “Vin drawled, “mine’s gonna be shorter.”

“And what leads you to believe my mother could ever be brief?”

“Got less to order me around about,” Vin assured him.

Ezra laughed leaning over he kissed Vin chastely on the cheek, then gestured down to the folded letter in his hand. “Proceed.”

Now Vin’s nerves overtook him. “Ah, Ezra, maybe you’d better do it. I don’t think I’m up to reading your ma’s fancy words.”

“Mother could be wordy at times,” Ezra admitted with a sigh.

Vin glanced up, ready to say something about mother’s sons but Ezra was smiling though his eyes were misty. Knowing his lover had known what he was saying, Vin returned the kiss, slipping the letter in Ezra’s hand.

Laying his own two letters aside, Ezra broke the seal on Vin’s, spread it open.  
Dear Mister Tanner,

I must be frank with you concerning….”

Ezra’s voice died off and Vin knew what he was reading was not what they wanted to hear.

“Read it, Ezra.”

With a deep breath, Ezra continued, …"what I had anticipated for Ezra. While I have known of his lack of normal desires toward women, I still harbored hope that he would find a partner suitable to his upbringing."

Ezra went stiff, obviously offended by the slight against Vin. Vin only laughed. “You were right. She did want you to get harnessed to some fancy business man.”

Ezra gave a slight nod, though Vin wasn’t sure what it was over, before he continued.

However, during my last visit to your quaint village, one thing became apparent – his love for you and the return of that love.

They exchanged a quick smile over Maude’s observation.

While it may come as a surprise to the both of you, I do, as any mother does, want my son to be happy.

“I do believe it,” Ezra commented coldly. “As long as it was her version of being happy.”

Vin didn’t say anything, reserving the thought that maybe it was Maude’s fear of losing Ezra that made her do some of the things she had done.

Mister Tanner, because of that desire for Ezra’s happiness, I would request two things from you.

Once more Ezra paused.

Please remember your promise to care for him. And, love him.

Ezra’s voice broke, tears filling his eyes. He offered the paper to Vin. Despite his misgivings, Vin took it. He dropped his arm around Ezra, pulled him close. His eyes drifted over most of the writing until he recognized the words “love him.” Taking a deep breath, he continued the missive.

Love him,…. And show him - some…thing that I was nev -er able to do.

His own eyes misted. There was more in the letter but for the moment Vin let it drop to the bed as he wrapped Ezra in a shaking hold.

“Knew it. When she told me to look after you, I knew she loved you.”

For a long while, Ezra was silent then he managed a watery chuckle. “Even in death, my mother still confuses me.”

There was not much Vin could say to that, so he held on a little longer. Ezra eased away, gesturing toward the paper. “What other surprised does she hold for us?”

Once more lifting the document, Vin read.

The box now in your po…ces…sion, is filled with mere tri.. vi…

He shoved the letter back to Ezra.

“Trivialities. I am not sure why I kept them but hope you may find some pleasure in them. My best wishes to you, Mister Tanner.

“What are triv-al ities?” Vin asked.

“Small, unimportant items.”

Poking Ezra playfully in the ribs, he said, “See that weren’t so bad.”

“No.” Ezra smiled, wiping the mist of tears away. “That was quite enlightening.”

Treading carefully now, Vin asked, “Ready for yours?”

Ezra studied the letter in his lap. “I’m not certain I will ever be prepared.”

He opened the next parchment and took a deep breath.

My dearest son,

Do not worry. This is not going to be some deathbed confession or begging of forgiveness. Despite your voiced opinion of my maternal skills, I did my best for both of us. Still, I feel that I need to express my care to you in a more concrete manner.

Ezra paused, glancing at Vin, wondering if his lover had picked up on the difference in language between the two letters. Maude had toned down her words for Vin. It was a little thing but Ezra found himself feeling a little more forgiving of his mother.

The only way for me to demonstrate how much I…care for you, is to entrust you to someone who loves you too. I have asked Mister Tanner to take care of you.

While Ezra had understood Josiah’s words on the train, to see the words in print, to know his mother actually did care for him. He fought off the tears, felt Vin’s hand on his leg. He sat there for a minute, letting himself come to terms with his mother’s words.

“I believe my mother has managed to surprise me again.”

“Not me,” Vin said confidently. “Told ya so.”

I have spent my life judging people and I believe Mister Tanner will keep his vow. Your own love for him was evident.

Now that I have done with being maudlin, you should also know that in the envelope with this letter is a safety deposit box key. I think you will be pleased with the contents. I expect you, Mister Tanner and Mister Sanchez to enjoy yourselves while you are in New Orleans. It is, after all, a city of great abandon.

So, good-bye, my dear boy. I was proud to have you as a son.

Ezra sat, gripping the letter, trying to sort through his feelings – again. Just as in the cemetery, he was torn with loss but anger still simmered there. Now, to add to the maelstrom of emotions, Maude’s words filled him with regret. His mother had never used the word – had he? Had he ever once told her that he loved her? That thought brought Ezra up short. Had the word love held any real meaning to him until Vin had said it? Warm fingers trailed down his cheek, jerking him away from the heavy thoughts.

“Okay?” Vin questioned.

He looked up into the winter sky eyes, saw what love was. Nodding, he relaxed into Vin’s arms, kissing along his throat. “I love you.”

“Wanna go back to sleep?” Vin suggested.

Straightening, Ezra said, “No, I would rather finish this. I will sleep better if we are done.”

With another quick kiss, Ezra reached for the last letter, the one written nearly twenty years before. He stared down at it, letting himself remember Anthony Simpson. The man had treated him as a son, the first and only time in Ezra’s life he had known what a father was like. It had been a long time since he had thought of the man. When they had run into the night, away from New Orleans, away from the rules of society, Ezra had been merely sad. Years and miles turned sorrow into anger but even that eventually gave way to a sort of melancholy whenever he considered the short family life he had known. Now, accepting that he had wanted that feeling back because of how Anthony had treated him, Ezra felt a new sense of gratefulness to the man.

Clearing his throat, he started reading.

My Dearest Ezra,

I am writing this for several reasons, the first of which is to beg your forgiveness. I should have never let you and your mother leave. When Morgan presented me with some of the things Maude had done, then threatened to reveal this to all of New Orleans, I felt it best for everyone to dissolve the marriage. At the time, it seemed the only way. I was young, still searching for riches, full of myself. In other words, I was stupid and scared. Sending you and your mother away was the single biggest mistake I ever made.

I did try to reconcile with your mother years later but her pride, the thing that carried her for so long, wouldn’t allow it. I can’t say as I blame her.

I want you to know that through it all, through the stories Morgan insisted on bringing me about you, I always knew one thing – I believe you would turn out to be a better man than Morgan. I like to think that some of the schooling my money brought helped in that.

I hope that you can find it to forgive me, Ezra. And while I now know that money is not the single most important thing in life, I also hope the money in the trust fund helps you find happiness. Please know that I never stopped thinking of you as my son.

With all my love,

Anthony Simpson

For a long time, Ezra again found himself staring at a piece of paper lost in thought. It was almost laughable. For all his life, he had remained unfretted to others, unloved and not caring. Now, in less than an hour, he found himself with two… parents who confessed their love for him. He couldn’t quite come to an understanding over it. It was too much, too fast, too close. It, like all the other emotions the trip had brought would take a while to sort through, to come to understanding with. Very carefully, he folded the letter back up and slipped it the larger manila envelope with the one from his mother.

Vin’s hand brushed his, handing over his letter as well. Ezra tucked them in together, nodding that he understood Vin’s intensions.

“All those years…,” he said quietly. “All these years I’ve held a grudge against a man as much a victim of circumstances and society as you and I.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t have no family till now, Ezra. Ain’t got much to say on passed regrets though,” Vin reminded him.

Ezra looked up, seeing the calm acceptance of things unchangeable in Vin’s eyes. With a sigh, he nodded. The soft sound brought a smile to Vin’s face.

“Doing what Simpson said might make it better. Spend it in good health.”

Knowing a distraction when he heard one, Ezra smiled in return. “We will endeavor to spend it well, Vin. I do believe if there is enough in the account that some frivolity might be had.”

“Frivolity anything like a good time?” Vin countered.

Shivering a bit, Ezra said, “As much as the funds and the law will allow.”

“Good, then let’s get to bed and get warmed up.” Vin took his arm and started them toward the bed. “Don’t want to have our frivolity slowed down by you getting a chill.”

Vin grabbed one of the finely made quilts off the end of the bed and wrapped it around Ezra. Ezra gave him a look that warned he was almost finished being babied. “Do you wish to check out the trivialities?”

“Sure,” Vin agreed, reaching to the nightstand where he had put the small box.

Opening the green tinted brass latch, he flipped the unadorned lid up. Ezra leaned over for a closer look as Vin pulled out several items. There was a handful of long faded ribbons and a Confederate dollar bill also wrapped with a ribbon. Vin looked up at Ezra but he could only raise his hands in a gesture of unknowing. The next item was a cameo with a small picture enclosed. Even fading into near invisibility, it was obviously a very young Maude Standish. Below that were two other pictures with Maude standing in wedding attire next to a man.

Ezra reached for one of them. “I believe this might be my father.”

Turning up the lamp, Vin leaned in. “Yeah, he does kind of look like you.” Looking up very seriously, Vin asked, “I ain’t never asked this of you, Ezra, but is your real name Standish?”

Sputtering a bit, Ezra said, “Well, of course…. Mother…. Hum.” Staring at the wall for a minute, and considering the varied history of his mother’s nuptials, he frowned before admitting to Vin, “Shall we just say that Standish is what I was told.”

Vin laughed, leaned in and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “You’re handsome when you get all flustered.”

Ezra merely rolled his eyes and gestured Vin back to the box. There were two post cards, one of what looked to be New York and addressed to Maude Standish. The other was perhaps Rome and went to Maude Dietrich. The next photography brought a smile to Vin’s face. It was obviously a just above toddler-aged Ezra in a very stern suit sitting in a high backed chair with his mother posing beside him.

“Dang, Ezra,” Vin said with a smile. “You was a cute little critter!”

It was the last item in the box that delighted Vin the most. It was an even older picture, taken in a different studio. In this one Maude was sitting in a chair, dressed in a beautiful cut gown and holding a slightly out of focus, completely naked baby.

Ezra started to grab it but was beaten to it by Vin. Wearing a smile that went from ear to ear, Vin held up the picture next to Ezra. “You ain’t gotten too much bigger there, Ezra.”

Instead of arguing about being the shorter of the two, Ezra merely smiled, and with a slightly lowered voice said, “More than big enough for you, Mister Tanner.”

Catching the meaning in his statement, Vin smiled back. “You got that right.”

Ezra reached for the picture but Vin held it out of reach. “Now this is gonna go right back in that box of trivialities.” Softly, seriously, he added, “I like that your ma gave these to me. I’ll take good care of them.”

“I know you will,” Ezra said.

Vin put everything back into the small box and laid it on the night stand. They shifted around, once more stretching out in the bed, the lamp beside them offering a warm glow to go with the stove.

Vin said, “Been near two weeks since you’ve read to me.”

Ezra gave him a look of disbelief. While their reading to each other had become a constant in their lives, Ezra was surprised by the request now. He had not even thought about the idea since the word of Maude’s death had shaken his world. Now, with everything that had happened, it seemed just the thing to anchor him back to his life and his love. Vin was smiling, waiting for him to ask. Vin, who knew exactly what he needed, even before he did.

“Mister Tanner, I did not pack anything….”

He watched Vin stretch like a large, beautiful mountain cat, reaching under the bed. When he shifted back up, he held an old, battered book in his hand. Ezra recognized it from many nights on the trail and in the comfort of their seldom shared bed.

Taking the book, he flipped to the page he knew by heart now. It seemed that Longfellow had captured everything that they sometimes felt after a day of tribulations.

THE day is done, and the darkness  
Falls from the wings of Night,  
As a feather is wafted downward  
From an eagle in his flight.

I see the lights of the village  
Gleam through the rain and the mist,  
And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me  
That my soul cannot resist:

A feeling of sadness and longing,  
That is not akin to pain,  
And resembles sorrow only  
As the mist resembles the rain.

Come, read to me some poem,  
Some simple and heartfelt lay,  
That shall soothe this restless feeling,  
And banish the thoughts of day.

Not from the grand old masters,  
Not from the bards sublime,  
Whose distant footsteps echo  
Through the corridors of Time,

For, like strains of martial music,  
Their mighty thoughts suggest  
Life's endless toil and endeavor;  
And tonight I long for rest.

Read from some humbler poet,  
Whose songs gushed from his heart,  
As showers from the clouds of summer,  
Or tears from the eyelids start;

Who, through long days of labor,  
And nights devoid of ease,  
Still heard in his soul the music  
Of wonderful melodies.

Such songs have a power to quiet  
The restless pulse of care,  
And comes like the benediction  
That follows after prayer.

Then read from the treasured volume  
The poem of thy choice,  
And lend to the rhyme of the poet  
The beauty of thy voice.

And the night shall be filled with music,  
And the cares, that infest the day,  
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,  
And as silently steal away.

Vin smiled at him. It was one of the tracker’s favorite poems, one that he quoted often to Ezra when the smooth southerner comforted them both with his voice. Before he could find another piece to read though, the night caught up with him.


	15. Chapter 15

“It is mornings like this that help affirm my belief in a Creator,” Josiah declared.

Brilliant blue skies covered the city. The rain had cleaned the streets and freshened the air. It was colder now but still nowhere near the chill of New Mexico. Vin returned his enthusiasm with a grin; even Ezra gave a slight smile, huddling deeper into his signature red jacket. Josiah was not surprised that Ezra had not picked a heavier coat. He shook his head, amazed at Ezra’s ability to endure discomfort for fashion.

It was interesting to walk down the street in the upper side of town, despite the looks of suspicion at Vin’s displayed gun. Even though he had left the mare’s leg in the hotel, the Smith and Wesson at his side was unusual enough to make a few people nervous. There were also the ladies, who seemed to be having a hard time deciding whether to cast shy glances at Vin or at Ezra. Josiah thought even he got a few looks. He laughed at that idea and slapped both his friends on the back.

The bank teller was just flipping his open sign around when they walked into the brick and marble building. Vin gave a low whistle, something he had been doing a lot. Ezra merely continued toward the row of elegantly carved granite and metal cages. It was warmer inside but the marble held the cold enough that Josiah didn’t bother to remove his coat. In a few hours, with the southern sun and iron stove, it was be very pleasant inside.

The teller eyed them suspiciously. “May I help you?”

“Mister Hopkins, please,” Ezra said.

The man smiled but there was coldness under it. “May I ask who is calling, sir?”

“Ezra Standish,” Ezra’s two words surpassed the clerk’s in both aloofness and breeding. “He is expecting me.”

The clerk tried to control his response but his training couldn’t compare to Ezra’s and it was easy to read his doubt about Ezra’s statement. Casting a quick look at Ezra, the man decided not to risk it.

“At once, sir.”

As soon as he disappeared behind a heavy wooden door on the back wall, Josiah and Vin chuckled.

“Got his goat there, Ezra,” Vin said.

“No challenge in that,” Ezra observed, though Josiah detected his amusement.

Seconds later a thin, short man, dressed more like a riverboat captain than a banker, emerged from the back room. He was smiling widely, but again, Josiah noted more to it than pleasure; a hint of hopefulness and maybe worry tagged along with it.

“Mister Standish!” the man grabbed Ezra’s hand. “I’m very pleased to finally get to meet you. I’m Kenneth Hopkins, president of this revered institution.”

“Mister Hopkins,” Ezra said. “My companions, Misters Sanchez and Tanner.”

A few minutes later, they were seated in a tidy office sipping some of the best coffee Josiah had ever sampled. The chair was overstuffed and comfortable, the room warmer than the large lobby thanks to a small fire in the hand painted, tiled fireplace. Josiah leaned back, settling in to enjoy the conversation.

Ezra leaned forward only long enough to slide the letter from Mister Matthews across the highly polished desk. Hopkins barely looked at it before sitting it aside. “Mister Standish, I hope you will allow me to explain in detail some of the fine services offered by this bank.”

Looking bored, Ezra said, “Perhaps later. For now just a status on the account is all I require.”

“Yes, of course,” Hopkins said. “It will only be a minute.”

With that he refilled their coffee cups from a pot near the fireplace, before excusing himself. The man’s manner had twigged Josiah’s curiosity. As soon as Hopkins was gone, he speculated, “Ezra, I think we might be talking about a lot of money here.”

“Mister Sanchez,” Ezra said coolly. “It has been my experience that if the cloud looks silver lined, it’s about to rain on your last dry coat.”

“Coffee’s good,” Vin commented.

The touch of worry Josiah had thought he’d seen in Vin’s eyes now appeared in his voice. Ezra turned slightly, noting it too. There was no chance to say anything before Hopkins reappeared. If possible the man looked even more flustered. He sat down, studying the piece of paper in his hand for a moment before, with great reluctance, easing it across to Ezra. Ezra exchanged a quick slightly hopeful look with Vin then took the paper.

Josiah watched Ezra’s fabled control completely desert him. Ezra took a sharp breath, leaned back in his chair, eyes wide. Vin moved in alarm, coming to the edge of his chair and grabbing Ezra’s arm.

“Hey, Ezra, might wanna breath there.”

It was only seconds but seemed much longer before the color came back into Ezra’s face. Josiah wasn’t sure if Ezra shook himself or not, but their friend was suddenly back, in prefect control.

“Mister Hopkins,” Ezra said. “I must confess that the amount of the account might entail some different arrangements on my part. While I am considering my options, I would like to set up a withdrawal account for myself and Mister Tanner.”

If Hopkins was surprised by the addition of Vin, he covered it well. Smiling, he stood up. “I’ll take care of that immediately. Do you require any cash at this time?”

“No, thank you. I don’t believe in carrying large amounts of cash on the streets.”

“A wise move, sir.”

As soon as the door closed, Ezra let out a short yelp of excitement, the kind he used after a tough fight or when Vin made a good shot. He came to his feet, yanking Vin out of his chair and hugging him hard. Josiah had a feeling that had he not been in the room Ezra would have done more than just hug Vin. Vin was grinning, Ezra’s joy infectious. Josiah felt the happiness spread a smile across his own face.

“Look at this!” Ezra shoved the piece of paper into Vin’s hand.

Vin’s reaction mirrored Ezra’s. His eyes grew wide and he sank down into the chair. “Wow,” he whispered. “Don’t believe I’ve seen that many zeros ‘fore in one place.”

Unable to control his curiosity, Josiah held out his hand. Ezra nodded and Vin passed the note over.

It wasn’t the largest number Josiah had ever seen, but it certainly wasn’t the smallest. He whistled lowly. Ezra only continued to grin, his gold tooth flashing. Josiah slapped him on the shoulder. “Congratulations, Ezra! You are no longer an underpaid civil servant; you are now a rich, civil servant.”

Despite his smile, Ezra still looked a little dazed. Josiah turned to Vin for help, and was startled by the returned look of worry in Vin’s blue eyes. Knowing now was not the time, Josiah pushed the observation aside for later.

The day was still bright and clear, as sunny as the smile on Ezra’s face. Vin had a feeling that if they had been anywhere but on the main street he would found the handsome gambler wrapped around him. Starting down the busy street, Vin wondered if Ezra even knew they were walking.

“What now, then, Ezra?” Josiah asked.

Shaking his head a little as if trying to come back to reality, Ezra stopped. “I think our original plan is still sound. If you and Vin continue on to Mr. Lellouche’s, while I proceed to the newspaper office to post the memorial notices, we can meet for lunch. I will also stop by the telegraph office and inform the others of our time table.”

“You ain’t gonna walk out in front of no carriages now are you, Ezra? Vin smiled. “Ya seem a might distracted.”

To Vin’s surprise, Ezra took a deep breath and frowned. “Perhaps you are correct. I should try to settle my excitement. It is my experience when things look their most promising, your boat is about to sink.”

Laughing, Vin said, “Then let’s get into that frivolity before the water gets too deep.”

Ezra’s smile came back. “Thank you, Mister Tanner. Tell Mister Lellouche, that if he completes whatever you gentlemen desire by tomorrow night, I’ll pay him extra.”

He smiled brightly. The nagging feeling that Vin had been fighting all day didn’t fade, in fact, as he watched Ezra walk away, it increased.

A hand touched his shoulder. “Come on, Vin. He’ll be okay.”

Accepting that for now there was nothing he could do but follow along, Vin fell into step with Josiah. The walk wasn’t far and Vin turned all his attention to the city around him, trying to distract himself from his feelings, both of real worry and vague unease.

Vin had thought that he might be lost in the city, might hate the closed in feeling of the buildings around him. Instead, he found himself fascinated by New Orleans. Here were street cars pulled by mules that carried dozens of people along, gas lamps that held the crime down, like the fires of Four Corners only safer. And there was beauty here, in the buildings, in the little bits of park and sparkling fountains, in the language and accents, in the fancy shops they were passing. He hadn’t said anything when Josiah had joked about the riverboats but he was actually looking forward to seeing one.

“Got any idea of what you’re gonna buy?” Josiah asked.

Squinting a little, he said, “I kinda hoped you’d help me there, Josiah.”

“Vin, the last suit I bought was two sizes too small. I don’t think my fashion sense is going to help us much.”

After another few yards, Josiah ventured a question. “You wanna tell me about it?”

He had to give Vin credit that he didn’t try to pretend ignorance of the question. The lithe Texan merely shrugged. “When I got it figured out, I’ll let you know.”

Josiah laughed. “Vin, the reason you talk to someone else is so they can help you figure it out.”

“So, you gonna tell me ‘bout the church?” Vin countered.

Josiah took a sharp breath, then grinned. “I’ll let you know.”

They both laughed at their own stubbornness. Vin shook his head. “Thanks, Josiah, but I’m going to ponder on it a bit first.”

Nodding, since he was not really surprised, Josiah declared, “Well, while you’re pondering, let’s go spend some of Ezra’s money.”

Two hours later, while Lellouche was out once more rounding up material to show them, Vin suddenly said, “Josiah, I don’t even know what a sinponie is.”

Despite the brevity and non-sequitur of the statement, Josiah understood immediately what was bothering Vin. Ezra was suddenly wealthy and in the only city he would probably call home, ready to enjoy everything civilization had to offer - and Vin was barely acquainted with civilization.

“Vin,” Josiah ventured, “you don’t….”

“I don’t reckon money’s gonna change….” He stumbled to a stop.

Josiah frowned, knowing none of them were comfortable yet talking openly about Vin and Ezra’s relationship. “I don’t believe anything will change Ezra’s feelings for you, Vin.”

“No, I ain’t worried about that,” Vin agreed softly. “But what if he wants to stay?”

This part of the problem surprised Josiah. Words of reassurance were pushed aside as he considered the question. Before Ezra and Vin had become one, there had been many times when Josiah wondered why Ezra stayed in Four Corners. He believed that it was Ezra’s need for friendship, camaraderie, and a family. The wandering gambler had found that home with the men of the frontier town.

Yet, Vin and Ezra had nearly died in the execution of their duty to a town that had driven them away, a town where some people would not walk on the same side of the street. Even more importantly, in New Orleans, the likelihood of Vin being challenged by a bounty hunter was almost nonexistent. Josiah had no doubt that Ezra would put Vin’s safety over any cultural advantage the city offered. Would that make him want to stay? To keep Vin safe?

“Ezra’s happy where he’s at, Vin,” Josiah reminded him. “But if he thinks you’ll be safer here….”

The widening of Vin’s blue eyes told Josiah that he had not even considered that aspect of the situation. Josiah flinched as he realized his comment might have only complicated the situation.

Vin turned toward the window, watching the busy street. Softly, he said, “Reckon he’d be safer here, too.”


	16. Chapter 16

Ezra leaned back in the straight cane chair, watching through the clean glass of the café window as the city went on her business. The wine was prefect, the wonderful smell of food surrounded him, and, he did not have to worry about how to pay for any of it. It was only just now becoming reality that he and Vin need never worry about their meager pay again. His first thought, when he had received the money was not what he could do with it, but what it could do for the two of them. His smile grew a bit as he fingered the receipt in his coat pocket.

His insistence that Josiah and Vin continue on alone had gained him the time he needed, not only to get to the newspaper, but to get to the local Pinkerton Detective Agency office. The renowned detective service was now in possession of a sizeable deposit to facility their investigation into the murder of a Tascosa, Texas farmer and the bounty offered on a certain ex-buffalo hunter.

Ezra had been very pleased with his cover story. He had claimed to be Vin’s brother, seeking to clear his sibling’s name so that they might be reunited. No mention was made of Vin’s location, nor was finding him part of the request. The agent seemed to have bought the story, though Ezra gained the impression that it wouldn’t have mattered what his motive was as long as the cash was there.

Once before Ezra had considered engaging the services of the famous agency only to find that the cost prevented him. Now, cost wasn’t something he needed to worry about. His smile faded a bit. He would spend every penny of his new wealth if it would clear Vin of the false bounty, of the sword of Damocles that hung over him. Over them.

As if cued, Vin and Josiah walked in at that moment, both smiling, as if Ezra’s mood was contagious. Josiah continued on, walking toward the water closest.

The smile Vin gave him, all mischief and love, curled deep into his chest. At that moment, Ezra realized the reason he was not deliriously happy about the money – he’d already been happy. He gave Vin’s hand a barely discernible brush as he reached for the wineglass. The touch connected Vin’s gaze to his.

Knowing their location precluded any statements of affection; Ezra let everything Vin meant to him reach his eyes, “Mister Tanner, there is something you need to understand,” he said with a formal tone. “There is nothing that has happened or will happen while we are in this city that will make me any happier than I was before we started the journey.”

The smile on Vin’s face faded into a look of amazement, then, as a few times before, Vin’s eyes filled with a look of infinite gratitude. A flood of joy swept through Ezra. He had said the prefect thing, even when he didn’t know it was something needed. Ezra didn’t understand why his publicly taciturn partner was so delighted by the simple declaration, only pleased that he was.

Josiah returned, hesitating for a minute before sitting down. Ezra gave him a wide grin, letting him know that everything was once more as it should be, only with more money. Leaning back, twirling the wineglass in his fingers, he said, “So, gentlemen, I hope you availed yourselves of the opportunity to purchase any garment of your choice.”

There was no missing the sly look that passed between his two companions, the look of little-boy-caught-in-cookie-jar from Vin. Ezra knew what was expected of him, almost smiled at the transparency of his friends. He was supposed to take the receipt and be shocked, choking on the fine wine or gasping. For an instant, he considered remaining completely unaffected, but he knew a strong reaction would bring the laugh they were both waiting to release. And Vin’s laugh delighted Ezra.

Ezra took the offered receipt, carefully not to be drinking the wine, as it was far too good to waste. Glancing down, he affected a wide-eyed, gasp. “Gentlemen! I did not mean for you to…. to buy the entire inventory!”

A hearty laugh answered his mock outrage, though the sly wink from Vin told him that he knew the reaction was fake. It didn’t matter. They had all enjoyed the joke.

Raising his glass, Ezra said with complete sincerity, “To my mother and step-father, may they both take joy in their heavenly rewards while we do the same down here.”

It was a simple enough telegram. Chris read it twice, trying to figure out why a chill went down his back when he did.

“Chris?” JD asked. The sheriff had come out of the jail a few minutes earlier, pulling his coat tighter against the increasing chill and just in time to see Antwistle deliver the message. Now, the younger man could obviously see Chris’ unease over the note. “Trouble?”

Looking up, Chris thought about that for a minute. “Just the opposite. Seems ol’ Ezra done struck it rich. One of his step-fathers left him a sizeable fortune.”

Chris was amazed to see the same unease he felt appear on JD’s face. “Ezra’s rich?”

“What?” Buck demanded, joining them on the sidewalk in time to hear the last question. Nathan was right behind him, also leaning close to hear the story.

Repeating the news about Ezra’s good luck, Chris watched Buck, wondering if he would have the same response. Instead, Buck grinned. “Well, damn, that old conman finally hit it big! Good for him!”

Nathan was shaking his head, smiling. “Guess he always knew it would happen somehow.”

The mood of the other two reached Buck. “You two are acting like your dog’s died. What’s wrong with Ezra having money?”

Exchanging a quick glance with JD to see if they were indeed thinking along the same lines, Chris said, “Buck, from what Josiah says Vin and Ezra got enough money to buy ‘em some big place somewhere else or even stay in New Orleans.”

Buck frowned. “What makes you think they’d want to do that?”

“Folks around here still don’t threat them right,” JD reminded them.

Chris noticed the slight twinge of guilt appearing on JD’s face as he remembered his own mistreatment of his friends.

“No more getting shot at for a dollar a day,” Chris added.

“Vin’d be safer,” Nathan said quietly. “That’d mean a lot to Ezra.”

The insight of Nathan’s words brought Chris’ gaze up to him. Nathan was staring into the distance, understanding and distress already lining his face, as if their absent companions’ decision was a foregone conclusion.

“You’re all crazy,” Buck declared. “Yeah, Ezra might like New Orleans, but you’re forgetting one thing, Vin ain’t gonna be happy there, which means he’ll want to come home. And Ezra’ll do anything to keep Vin happy.”

“They have been working awful hard on their ranch,” JD said, trying to sound encouraging.

“Yeah, be a nice place to live soon,” Nathan agreed.

Even Chris agreed. “They planned on buy some stock come fall roundup.”

Buck was smiling again. “I predict that ol’ Ezra and Vin will come home fast as they can, though it may take ‘em a bit longer with the pack train they’ll have to have to carry Ezra’s new wardrobe.”

The others, except for Chris, laughed at that. Chris merely tried to ignore the worry in his chest.

The day had gotten progressively colder as they finished the last few bits of business. By the time of their return to the hotel, Ezra was more than ready to pull a comfortable chair up to a warm fire and consider all the changes the day had wrought.

“Perhaps, we should order dinner before….”

“Ezra?”

The voice behind them held no malice but it was unexpected and unknown, which was enough to send Vin’s hand toward his gun even as Ezra spun around, only an instant away from springing his derringer. Seeing the danger he was in, the man behind them stepped back, raising his hands and offering a quick, shaky smile.

Ezra remembered the smile, remembered the awakening it had brought, the feeling of finding someone who was like him, the fleeting pleasure and the eventual horror that realization had brought. He stared, unable to make his mind come to terms with who was before him. Vin touched his arm in concern and the single touch of warmth freed his voice and thoughts.

“Howard?”

Howard Randall was as handsome as Ezra remembered. He was Vin's height, though broader across the shoulders, with a narrow waist. His dark brown hair, cut a little longer and looser than Ezra's, framed a face with a straight nose and strong chin. Just as nearly eighteen years before, it was Howard’s bright blue eyes that drew Ezra’s attention. His eyes held the same crystal intensity as Vin’s, though they were a deeper blue. A finely tailored black coat and white shirt frilled at the wrists added elegance to the man’s look.

Before Ezra could think about moving, Howard stepped forward, wrapping his arms around him. Laughing, Ezra returned the hold. They held on to each other, both talking at the same time.

“I can’t believe it,” Howard muttered.

"Howard.” Ezra pulled away, for a heartbeat, the terrors that went with the memories of his first love threatened to overwhelm the pleasure. But Vin’s love had vanquished the demons, and he let himself enjoy the reunion. "I'm so pleased to see you. What are you doing in New Orleans? I thought you were still in Saint Louis.”

Howard didn’t seem interested in Ezra’s questions; instead he maintained his hold on Ezra’s arms, smiling. "You look wonderful!"

"How did you find me?” Ezra wondered. "What are you doing here?"

Sorrow appeared in Howard's expression. "I saw a notice in the Gazette a few weeks back about Maude Standish's passing. It listed this hotel as her last residence.” Howard gave a shrug. "I've been stopping by all week asking for you. I'm so very sorry about your mother, Ezra."

"Thank you,” Ezra said sincerely.

Gathering his thoughts, Ezra turned toward Vin. With pride and love coloring his voice, he said, "Howard, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Mister Vin Tanner, a very good friend.”

Just before he made the introduction, Ezra thought he caught a flash of unease in Vin’s gaze. It vanished as soon as he spoke though, leaving Vin with a soft smile of pleasure. "Mister Tanner, Mister Howard Randall."

Vin stepped forward, extending his hand. "Pleasure."

Ezra watched, not sure what would happen. There was a quick appraisal from both the other men, each searching for something in the other’s gaze.

“Mister Tanner.” Howard shook the hand offered.

“And this is another of our band, Mister Sanchez.” Ezra stepped back, letting Josiah and Howard exchange handshakes.

After a second Howard turned back to Ezra. "Ezra, I won't keep you two. You have probably had a long day. ”

"Nonsense,” Ezra said. "Just give us time to change--"

"No, no,” Howard insisted. "Why don't the two of you meet me for lunch on Tuesday?"

“Y’all don’t need me there,” Vin volunteered.

“Or me,” Josiah said as a quick answer.

“You are very welcome to…” Howard started.

Vin laughed and Ezra caught the approval in his eyes. “Mister Randall, we done heard all this old dog’s tall tales. Don’t need to hear ‘em again. Gonna go hear some of this music around town I been hearing about.”

Understanding so much in Vin’s statement, Ezra nodded. “Very well, where and when, Mister Randall?”

Howard said, “Is the Roulette Club on Stoneybrook at one, acceptable?”

“Prefect.”

To Ezra’s continuing amazement, Howard's look softened, a warm glow coming into his eyes. "Perhaps we can catch each other up on the past few years. You can tell me how you came by the gold tooth.” The words were soft, filled with true interest and… hope?  
"I'll look forward to it,” Ezra said with equal enthusiasm.

"Tomorrow.” Howard slipped on a short-brimmed black hat, nodded to Vin. "Mister Tanner. Mister Sanchez."

For a long minute after Howard had left, Ezra continued to stand, staring at the door, not quite sure he believed everything that had been contained in a single day.

Vin put a hand on Ezra's shoulder. "Come on, let's get you warmed up."

Ezra seemed to come back to reality. "An excellent idea,” he agreed with a smile.

Josiah once more lead them to the room, hanging his coat on the rack next to the fireplace. “We might want to dress a bit warmer there, Ezra, if we are heading for the river.”

“An excellent point,” Ezra admitted. “It can be rather brisk on the boats.”

They moved to their respective bedrooms. As Ezra closed the door to theirs, he turned to Vin and gave him a quick, light kiss. “Thank you, Vin.”

Giving him a confused look, Vin asked, “What for?”

“For allowing me to go with Mister Randall to….” As Ezra watched a deep frown etched across Vin’s face.

“Ezra,” Vin asked seriously, “do you love me?”

A bit confused himself, Ezra said, “More than anything in the world.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” Ezra answered quickly, “I trust… oh. Oh.”

Vin’s frown curled up a bit as amusement lightened his eyes. Ezra sighed as Vin took him in a solid, warm hug, kissing him deeply. When Vin pulled back, he was smiling. “It’s tough sometimes.”

Ezra laughed. “I’m doing my best.”


	17. Chapter 17

“Holy Moses,” Vin whispered. “That’s a lot of water.”

Behind him, Josiah laughed.

“And here I thought you to be impressed by the riverboats,” Ezra said.

Looking down the long dockside at the line of brightly painted riverboats, Vin nodded, “They’re real pretty, Ezra.”

He turned back to stare at the Mississippi flowing swiftly by the busy port. The sun sparkled off the dark water, reflected the colors of the boats, and the crystal blue sky. There was both power and serenity to the movement of the water. Vin glanced down river, then up, feeling a chill at the ability the water had to carry so much along it. A hand touched his arm, and he looked over to see a puzzled look at Ezra’s face.

Understanding the unvoiced question, Vin said, “Ain’t never seen that much water in one place.”

Surprised by the statement but seeing the awe in Vin’s expression, Ezra said, “Perhaps we can one day take a trip up river. There are some beautiful wild places. Or an excursion into the Gulf, which is even bigger than the river. Or to California and see the Pacific.”

Vin gave a little tilt of his head. “Not so sure as I’d want to be on a boat on that big of a piece.” Looking embarrassed, he added, “I cain’t swim much.”

His admission obviously surprised Ezra. “Really? I cannot remember a time when I could not swim.”

“Gotta remember there, Ezra, where I come from the creeks ain’t deep enough to drown a rabbit.”

Ezra laughed, grabbed him by the elbow and steered him toward the boats. “Perhaps one day, you will allow me the pleasure of teaching you to swim, Mister Tanner. In the meantime, I do expect you and Mister Sanchez to not lose too much of our money.”

Vin gave him a smile, admiring the sharp cut black coat over the silver vest that Ezra was wearing. He tugged his own new linen coat a little closer against the wet breeze coming down the river. While Ezra didn’t understand why Vin insisted that he share some of the money between the three of them, he was glad to see Ezra was doing it with less complaining than before. Along the dock, several of the boats whistled their intent to pull away. The activity on the manmade shelf fascinated Vin. There was a long line of boats, some with the great paddle wheels on back, and some with side wheels. Men of all types and backgrounds, from traders in suits to workers in nothing but pants scurried around the warehouses, through the heavily laden mule wagons, and on and off the boats.

Pulling them both to a stop, Vin watched as one of the side-wheelers was pulled away from the dock by two small steam tugs. Once a few yards from the wood pillars, the boat blew two long blasts. The steam that poured from the pipes colored the clear blue sky with white smoke, and the huge wheel turned over slowly, then harder until it was churning the water, the wooden paddles glistened in the afternoon sun.

Once more Ezra’s hand touched his arm, this time to get his attention. Vin turned his eyes away from the fascinating movements, smiled down at Ezra. “This is all kind of amazing there, Ezra.”

“I am delighted to hear you are as entranced by the river and the boats as I have always been. But –“

“There are poker tables calling,” Josiah finished.

Vin was the one who laughed this time, throwing his arm around Ezra. “Cain’t let you miss too much of that. Reckon we’d best get to it.”

They walked pass two of the streamers, dodging passengers and freight wagons, before coming to one of the smaller, though fancier, of the boats. Vin gave a soft whistle as they started down the gangplank. The trip led them halfway down the port side of the boat before Ezra ducked into a small doorway and onto a landing overlooking the main room. As the boat was not due to ship out until the next day with passengers, as Ezra had discovered, they had opened the gambling hall while in dock. The inside hall of the passenger only steamer was a beautiful dark wood, highlighted with velvet green curtains that were closed against the sun. A bar claimed an entire side of the room, except for a small stage where an unattended piano sat. Two dozen tables with six chairs each, spaced just far enough apart to prevent cheating were the only other items in the room.

Next to him, Ezra took out a cigar from his breast pocket, stuck a match on the rough wood of the doorway and lit it. It was only the second one Vin had ever seen him smoke but considering the heavy smoke in the room it seemed the thing to do while gambling. Ezra looked over at Vin with a wide grin.

“Gentlemen,” he said with a slight tip of his hat, “I entrust you to Lady Luck’s fortunes.”

With that he swung his cane up to his shoulder, stepped down the few steps and into the hall. Vin shook his head.

“Man’s in his element,” Josiah said.

Vin smiled. “Sure is.”

The sun had long sat and the windows closed against the building wind when Ezra decided to call it a night. Laying his cards face down on the table, he said, “Gentlemen, I fold. Thank you for a very enjoyable evening.”

He was answered with several friendly nods. It was a pleasure to play against men who understood the game, and appreciated winning or losing to equally talented players. It was even more relaxing when Ezra knew where his next meal was coming from and didn’t have to resort to cheating to earn a few dollars to eat. Starting through the smoky hall, Ezra sighed. He had seen Vin head out an hour or so earlier. Josiah had gone to the bar only a few minutes before, which had encouraged Ezra to close his night’s entertainment.

Josiah had seen him stand and start to make his way through the crowded tables. They meet at the door. Just outside, Vin was sitting on one of the metal benches that stretched the length of the boat. Despite Josiah being next to him, Ezra gave a small, contented sigh at the sight of Vin sprawled out watching the stars above him.

“Vin?”

Yawning, Vin stood and stretched back. “We done here?”

“It was a very enjoyable evening.”

“But was it profitable?” Josiah questioned as they started down the gangplank and into the mostly empty street.

“Mister Sanchez, a gambler never reveals….”

He stammered to stop as Vin casually pulled out a very large bundle of bills from his inside coat. His lover didn’t say anything, just glanced at it, glanced at Ezra, and put it back in the pocket.

Josiah broke into a hearty laugh.

“Gents.”

The voice carried out of the darkness near one of the shuttered buildings they were passing. Ezra eased away from Vin, instinctively sensing trouble. Three big men stepped out of the shadows. They were dressed in loose plain trousers and sleeveless, dirty shirts, had an air of meanness about them that immediately put the three westerners on edge. Still, Ezra harbored the hope they could pass by uneventfully.

“Gentlemen,” he answered calmly. Taking a step forward, he found his way blocked by one of the men. Rubbing at the sudden exhaustion that was making itself known across the back of his neck, he tried again. “If you will excuse us, sirs, we are in route to our hotel.”

“That won’t be a problem,” the man said, revealing a slight German accent. “Once you have given us the money from your pocket.”

His reply was cut off by a snort from Vin and a short chuckle from Josiah.

One of the other men moved up in front of Vin, the last one taking position opposite Josiah. Ezra looked nervously between the two opposing groups. Josiah was taller than their assailants, but he was the only one; Ezra and Vin being at a distinct disadvantage in height and weight. Ezra glanced again though, and saw something in Vin’s eyes that completely changed the odds. Vin was ready for a fight!

Biting back his smile, Ezra realized that they had been in close quarters and had expanded very little energy in nearly a month. In Four Corners they would have had several energetic brawls with some of the local cowboys in that amount of time.

“While I can’t speak for my companions,” Ezra said. “I do not believe I will be parting with my cash this evening. Opinion, Mister Tanner?”

From the corner of his eye Ezra saw the blank, dangerous look settle in Vin’s expression. The tracker seemed to lean back, putting his weight on his good leg, sloughing in place but under the new shirt Ezra could see the lean muscles tense. Vin was completely silent.

Next to him Josiah merely smiled, a slow patient sort of smile, like a parent with a wayward child. Ezra carefully hid his smile.

“Brothers,” Josiah started, “I think it would be best for you to pause and reconsider this course of action. Remember, the Lord said, “Thou shalt not steal.””

The three men stared at them as if they had grown horns. The air picked up a charge. “Give us the money and we will let you go,” the first man demanded again.

“Ezra,” Vin said, “you’d best step back now.”

“What?” Ezra asked, already trying to figure out his initial move.  
Without taking his eyes off his opponent, Vin said, “I don’t want you hanging off any street poles.”

For a minute Ezra wanted to protest, but instead stepped back and with a gracious bow, said, “I concede to your suggestion, Mister Tanner.”

The three men were even more confused by this development, but the leader wasn’t one to ignore an advantage. He smiled and a knife appeared in his hand, barely catching the faraway lamplight. “Money, now.”

There was a flash of motion, and the knife vanished into the dark street as Vin effortlessly kicked the attackers hand away. Ezra leaned back against the lamp post, hand ready to trigger his derringer if needed. From the way Josiah, and more so Vin, waded into the fight, it would not be necessary.

Two men charged Josiah, seeing him as the threat. Josiah let out a roar, giving a round house punch on one man that sent him sailing into the other attacker. The first man hit the ground with a string of curses. Before the other could follow his companion to the ground, Josiah grabbed his arm and yanked him back into a painful fist. It was a well-aimed punch, knocking him into the other man. Josiah let go, adding a strong push so that the crash to the ground was much more spectacular.

Next to the two downed robbers, Vin and the other man were circling, the man with his hands raised to his waist, ready to strike, Vin with his thumbs hooked into the belt of his pants. Ezra smiled. It should have been a ridiculous pose – it wasn’t. The man swung on Vin, and the tracker ducked back, dodging the blow with ease. Ezra’s smile turned to open laughter as the same scenario was repeated four times in rapid succession.

When Vin dodged a fifth time without striking back, Ezra said loudly, “Please Mister Tanner, I would like to get to bed before dawn!”

Vin cast him a quick, small smile. “Sorry Ezra, forgot you were in a hurry.”

Just as he unhooked his thumbs, one of the other men ran between him and his attacker, obviously having had enough punishment from Josiah. Ezra switched his attention over for an instant, watched Josiah send the man to the ground again, smiling wickedly as he did. It was enough; the man staggered to his feet and sprinted into the night in the opposite direction from his companion.

In front of Ezra, Vin moved, rushing in and punching the man dead on, immediately sending a spray of blood onto the dirty white shirt. Deserted by his backup and facing a strong, wicked right hand the man gave Ezra one deadly, ignored glare and followed the fleeing other two.

“Damn,” Vin complained. “I didn’t get but one hit in!”

Ezra laughed. “Mister Tanner, I’m afraid your approach is far too subtle. Your speed had impressed him long before your fist did.”

Josiah stepped up toward them, wiping at a slight trickle of blood from his chin. “Are you injured, Mister Sanchez?”

“Nope, ducked enough for the fist, caught the ring.”

Putting his face into a neutral expression, Ezra moved away from where he was leaning. “I trust you two enjoyed that?”

Vin and Josiah looked at each other, and grinned.

“I thought you said this place was civilized, Ezra,” Vin joked as they continued their walk.

“Please, Mister Tanner, do not confuse civilized with safe.”


	18. Chapter 18

Josiah heard the door from the other room open. He hoped it was Ezra but knew it would not be. Ezra would have no reason to be out of bed near dawn. With a sigh, Josiah turned to find Vin watching him in silent concern. Vin was far too observant to lie to; he would know that Josiah didn’t just wake, that he had been sitting in the dark for some time.

The tracker would not ask though. There were only two people Vin actually questioned about their feelings, Ezra and Chris. For the others, he was always just there, waiting. Josiah smiled. He had bothered Vin with questions about his melancholy mood but Vin would never do the same, yet the concern was just as strong. Not bothering to turn up the lamp, Vin came into the main room just as the first rays of pink were breaking the eastern sky, sat down opposite Josiah.

And such caring deserved an answer. Not sure where to start, Josiah said with a sigh, “Yesterday was the first time I have been in a Catholic church in nineteen years.”

It was a bland statement of fact, giving nothing away; the same level tone that Josiah had used when he had told Vin about his father’s abusive treatment that had driven his sister into an asylum.

A moment passed before Vin said, “Must have been strange.”

He considered the wording, compared to his maze of feelings. Turning partially toward the younger man, Josiah admitted, “It felt… good.”

Josiah had not expected to say that any more than Vin had expected to hear it. Yet, once the words were out, there was no denying the truth of them. Where to go from here? How did Josiah explain what he didn’t understand himself?

“Heard there’s a place just down the street got a breakfast they use to make for kings and such,” Vin commented.

Josiah laughed. Trust Vin to know it was going to be a long story, and that things were sometimes better told over coffee and food, instead of in a dark, closed room.

“What about Ezra?” Josiah asked.

“Reckon, Ezra ain’t gonna see light of day for four or five more hours,” Vin laughed, and Josiah thought he heard a slight blush in the words. “Might not even make dinner.”

Outside, milk trucks and baker’s wagons clattered over the cobblestones, accompanied by the squeal of pigs and fussing of chickens from freight wagons. Vin seemed vaguely surprised at the amount of activity. It occurred to Josiah that the tracker had been enjoying the trip to the big city, though he probably wouldn’t admit it.

For a few minutes after entering the crowded café, Josiah let his thoughts center on getting a strong cup of coffee and an order of beignets. The next few minutes were spent watching Vin discover the joys of the sticky, powered-sugar covered confection. A slight smile touched his face as a Vin gave a soft “ummm” as he ate. Plates of bacon and eggs arrived a few minutes later.

Vin was still eating when Josiah said, “I came to the seminary when I was eighteen.” Looking at Vin, he said, “You probably figured out why.”

“Your father,” Vin said levelly.

“My father was a hellfire and brimstone Baptist preacher. About the worst thing you could be, other than an unbeliever, was a Catholic,” Josiah said. “I intended to study for a while and leave. I stayed for ten years.”

“What happened?”

Josiah sighed. It was a story he’d not told anyone. Yet now, if he were to decide on a future, he had to discuss the past. “I killed a man.”

Vin’s clear blue eyes studied him for a minute, accepting that Josiah would have had a reason for it. His only other reaction was to refill their coffee cups.

“I was priest of a small church in Arboleda de los Gorriones, California. One Sunday morning, I was on my way to Mass. On the street a man, still drunk from the night before, was beating on one of the local working girls.”

The words were flat, as if he had rehearsed them every day. “I stepped in and he pulled a knife on me. I looked down at the girl – and saw Hannah.” He looked up at Vin, fighting to control the tremor in his voice. “I just remembered seeing my sister like that after our father would punish her bloody. Can’t say much after that, except I hit him, hard; hard enough to kill him.”

He gave a small shrug. “No one made much of a fuss. He wasn’t liked in town; the local sheriff figured it was self-defense.” Josiah sighed. “The girl died.”

Vin waited, sipping his coffee.

“It was her dying…. I don’t know, somehow it made everything wrong,” Josiah tried to explain. “That’s when I started wondering about God, about whose God was the real one, if there even was one. Started looking, roaming, wondering.”

“And now, you found Him again?” Vin asked.

“Can’t say for sure,” Josiah admitted with a smile. “But lately, I find myself thanking Him more and questioning and cursing less.”

“Why you think that is?”

“Six whys. A whole town full of whys.”

Vin snorted. “Ain’t nothing we can teach you ‘bout God, Josiah.”

Josiah gave him a slight smile. “That’s where you are wrong, Vin.”

“Still, you sure you’re ready to lead a flock again?” Looking puzzled for the first time, he asked, “Will they let you?”

“Despite what Sheriff Bryne said, I wasn’t defrocked.” Seeing Vin’s confusion, he explained, “I quit…. just sort of walked away.” Smiling ruefully, he admitted, “Though if the Church found out about some of my misadventures, they would have thrown me out.”

His smile faded a little. “I don’t know about going back, about what I could do again. In a church the size of St Anne’s, I could find out a little at a time, serve as acolyte, a helper first.”

Vin nodded, turned to stare out the window. Josiah followed his gaze. It was a cloudy sunrise, signaling another sweep of rain, followed by more cold. They looked back at the same time, and Josiah was confronted with as much doubt on Vin’s face as he knew was on his own.

“We been together ‘purt near three years now,” Vin commented quietly. “That’s longer’n I ever been in one place.”

Understanding the meaning behind the words, just as he had only two days before, Josiah nodded. “Life changes. Chris and Mary’ll be married once we’re home. Nathan and Rain or JD and Casey, ain’t sure who’ll be next. Families’ll come next. Frontiers all give way to what might pass for civilization. Real life, no more getting shot at.”

Vin nodded, then said, “There are times when I still get scared in town.”

“Scared?” Josiah wondered.

“What if someone believes we’d hurt a child?” Vin questioned softly.

The memories of the town’s reaction to the rumors of Ezra’s sexuality struck Josiah. Ezra could have died on the street of Four Corners, killed by the people he had protected for years.

“Most of the folks aren’t like that,” Josiah defended. At the same time, he admitted to himself that it was still possible.

Josiah also didn’t voice the words aloud, but there was also the fact if the town settled down it wouldn’t need seven peacekeepers. Ezra and Vin would have no reason not to find someplace else, someplace safer, someplace where people wouldn’t move to the other side of the street when they walked by. And now, he was thinking of leaving too, thinking of returning to something that had been important to him once, something that he was only slowly realizing was still important.

“Come on,” Vin said, standing up.

“Where we going?” Josiah wondered.

“Book shop.”

Josiah smiled. Trust Vin to know that some things were best digested slowly, like the good breakfast. “Lead the way.”

“Let’s go by the hotel. I’ll leave a message for Ezra with Mister Fontaine,” Vin said. “Just in case he decides to haul his lazy carcass up before noon.”

“Chris,” JD nodded to his boss as the older man came into the jail.

“Anything serious I oughta know about?” Chris tossed his hat onto the peg near the door.

“Don’t know about serious but that salesman is back in town. Rode in last evening.”

Nodding, Chris asked, “Anyone keeping an eye on him today?”

“Yeah, Buck was going to watch him. Said the man went to the couple of stores and the telegraph office. Inez says he only paid through tomorrow so Buck figures he’s gonna take the stage out then.”

As Chris started for the coffee pot, JD warned him, “That’s some Buck made this morning.”

Putting the pot back down, Chris grabbed half a muffin that was sitting next to the pot, vaguely wondering how old it was. “That today’s Clarion?”

“The new Johnson boy just brought it by. Good article by Misses Travis about Ezra’s new money.”

Chris’ attention was suddenly on the paper that JD was holding out to him. Unfolding it, he took a sharp breath at the bold headline: Local Lawman Inherits Fortune.

“Damnit,” Chris uttered.

“Something wrong with it?” JD asked.

“Yes, no…” Chris rubbed his eyes. “I guess ain’t nothing wrong. Just seems like letting the whole place know might not be a good idea.”

Sitting down, he read the article, trying to figure out why it worried him. He shook his head; it seemed everything about his friend’s new found wealth made him itchy.

“Anyone been out to check on the Collings bunch?” Chris asked to change the subject.

JD shrugged. “Missus Nettie and Casey have been keeping an eye out. Casey’ll come in and let us know if they spot them on Ezra’s place again.”

“Good enough,” Chris affirmed.

While everything seemed to be quiet, Chris couldn’t help but feel it was the calm before the storm.


	19. Chapter 19

Ezra eyed the front of the building, feeling an old contempt sweep through him. The Roulette Club was exactly the kind of place his kind were not welcome. A faint smirk traced his lips; it was also the kind of place he most enjoyed getting into and where he had found some of his best marks. The smirk became a smile as he reminded himself he was the equal of any man in the building, because one half-wild Texan thought so.

He had been relieved when his two companions had decided to enjoy some of the taverns and bars that crowded the Quarter. Vin had, to his surprise expressed interest in hearing some of the music that the area was famous for. He wondered if it would cause his lover to try to learn the harmonica again. That thought brought both a smile and grimace.

Unknown to the other two lawmen, he had left earlier than was needed so that he could visit a doctor on St Charles Street. As he had expected the doctor could tell him nothing more than Nathan had; it would take time to heal, get plenty of rest and avoid over-indulging in drink. The man had also suggested steam baths to help clear his head. Perhaps when they returned home, he would get Vin to build one of the sweat lodges he had once described to Ezra.

He tapped the brass knocker twice and barely had time to lower his hand before the door opened. A tall Negro butler standing precisely next to the door motioned him inside. Ezra smiled as he entered.

“Your coat, sir?” The butler asked in a heavy Cajun accent.

Ezra removed the heavy leather coat he had purchased against the growing, unseasonably cold weather; he also handed over his hat. Straightening his new gray, perfectly cut pin-striped coat, he tilted his head a bit to signal the butler he was ready. The butler took his coat, smoothing it carefully before stepping away to deposit both items into a cedar-lined coat closest. The entrance hall was not large and flashy like the hotel but dark and elegant, giving an immediate feel of intimacy. Dark red cedar walls were highlighted by Moorish carpets and gold edged doors. There were no windows, increasing the feel of safety and privacy.

“This way, please, sir.”

The gas lamps hissed quietly, offering soft light down the dark hall. There were several open doors through which Ezra glimpsed men playing billiards or cards. In one ornate room, heavy cigar smoke blended with the smell of bourbon. They came to a stop in front of the fourth door, a heavy oak, elaborately carved piece with brass hinges that shone in the lamplight.

There was a slight moment of panic on Ezra’s part as he watched the butler raise his hand. While part of him was looking forward to the evening, another part knew there would be questions asked, and answers he didn’t want to give. Squaring his shoulders as the man’s large fist rapped faintly, he accepted that there was no turning back.

“Enter,” Howard’s muffled voice sounded from inside the room.

The servant opened the door inward, stepping back to allow Ezra pass. The room was beautiful. Dark wood panels covered half the wall, divided from the brocade wallpaper by a thick strip of ivory painted railing. The room was the size of the jail back home, though it held only one dining table and three large stuffed chairs next to a simple but beautifully finished fireplace. Ezra made a note of the opulence before turning all his attention to the man standing next to the table.

Howard personified refinement. He was wearing a dark blue waistcoat over a silver vest and lighter blue shirt. Ruffles hinted at the sleeves of his coat while a single line of blue satin trimmed the black trousers. A silver watch chain dangled just at the edge of the coat and into the pants pocket. The clothes faded from Ezra’s perception when Howard smiled at him.

From the time he had been old enough to know what sexual feelings were, Ezra had known he was not like others. For years he had kept his secret, fought the feelings, tried to overcome his natural inclination by throwing himself at the fairer sex. Then he had meet Howard Randall, and everything that had once been wrong, had become right. The attraction had been immediate and more than physical. For two wonderful months they had enjoyed each other’s company, had built a fast friendship, had shared a few fleeting kisses, and awkward touches.

For eighteen years, the joy of those kisses and the warmth of that friendship had been forgotten in the terror that followed when Ezra’s three boyhood companions had discovered his secret. The memories had been lost in the pain and scars of betrayal, to the attack, and the near castration he’d endured. Shame, anger and fear had made Ezra run, away from Saint Louis, away from memories – away from Howard.

“Ezra!” Howard’s smile grew as he stepped forward.

The door closed on silent hinges behind Ezra as he found himself taken in a hard hug. For a moment he resisted, thinking that Vin wouldn’t like it, but then he relented, leaning against Howard, telling himself it was only the greeting of one old friend for another. The hug continued until Ezra broke it by stepping back. Howard just smiled at him, slipping a hand under his elbow and moving him to the lavishly appointed table.

“I seem to recall you preferred beef to chicken,” Howard started talking as they sat down. “The chef here has a specialty of sour orange glazed beef that I think you’ll like.”

Feeling unusually self-conscious, Ezra said, “It sounds wonderful. The only way beef is prepared west of the Mississippi is fried or grilled.”

A five-pronged candelabrum cast gold light on the table; the plates were edged with the same pattern as that in the silver, the middle displaying a coat of arms in crimson and black. Ezra idly wondered who owned the family crest. A decanter of deep red wine sat between two glasses.

“I hope you enjoy my choice of dinner.”

“If the opulence of the location is any indication of the quality of the food, I am sure it will be unparalleled.”

“Excellent,” Howard responded. “Food should be here fairly soon.”

Gesturing toward the chairs, Ezra took a seat as Howard filled two glasses of wine. “Is it true what I’ve heard?” he questioned as he sat the glasses down.

A little puzzled, Ezra said lightly, “I would say that it is dependent on what you have heard.”

“You’re a lawman?” Howard’s tone defined his incredulousness.

Rolling his eyes at bit, Ezra explained, “Yes, well that is a very lengthy and convoluted story.”

“We have all afternoon.”

Ezra didn’t miss the sudden deepening in Howard’s voice or the glint in the cobalt blue eyes that stared into his. To his horror, a shiver of lust touched his groin. Clearing his throat, he took a sip of the wine and fought his emotions into the control he had long cultivated. “I am more interested in how you have managed….” Gesturing around the elaborate room. “You have obviously done well. I would say this was accomplished by more than just being a good gambler at billiards.”

“You remembered, and you are correct,” Howard admitted. “After the war it became quite profitable to sell stocks in up and coming enterprises.”

“You’re a stock dealer?” Ezra asked in surprise.

“Yes, well,” Howard dodged, “let’s say that my other talent was a lot of help.”

“Other…?” Ezra leaned back in his chair, thinking. “Forgery! You foraged stock certificates?”

“Not going to arrest me, are you?” Howard asked, sipping his wine again.

Ezra laughed. “I do not believe that particular crime is in my rather limited jurisdiction. Are you still so employed?

Howard held his hands up. “No, no. That new outfit from Washington, the Secret Service, that was only doing counterfeiting, is now assuring stock printing it legally done. Far too dangerous now. Though I do have a few souvenirs of my glory days. I took my ill-gotten gains and am now a very legitimate importer.”

Before they could discuss the issue further, a light knock on the door signaled their lunch’s arrival. As the meal was laid out by two servants, the conversation switched to more mundane things such as Ezra’s trip, the unseasonably cold temperatures. As the servants left, they went back to more nefarious accounts.

As they ate, Ezra told a few of the more exciting tales of his career on the riverboats, and on being a lawman in Four Corners. Howard countered with stories about how he had learned to be a better forger, how he had realized what would pay or not on fake stocks. As the meal vanished, long moments of awkward silence claimed them. Ezra knew that they were both trying to avoid discussing what had happened eighteen years before. By the second glass of wine, he knew by the lengthening pauses that they would soon be forced to talk about what they both were putting off.

“Ezra,” Howard’s smooth voice turned serious, telling Ezra that the time had come. “I wanted to say how sorry I was that our parting so many years ago wasn’t…. better.”

“Better?” Ezra questioned, not sure of what Howard was implying.

“I know that my unfair criticism of your decision to leave rather than volunteer to fight….” Howard sighed, glancing down. “I had hoped, despite my words, that you might try to find me after the war.”

“Stop!” Ezra demanded.

Howard’s dark blue eyes met his, wide in surprise and confusion. Ezra flinched away from the look. Grabbing his wineglass, he stood and paced away, going to the fireplace to lean on the mahogany mantle. He was very conscious of Howard following his move, not granting him the space he needed.

After a moment of silence, he turned to face the older man. “Your opinion over my stand during the recent conflict was not the reason for my lack of contact.”

Ezra froze as Howard’s hand drifted toward his cheek, fingers brushing lightly. “If it wasn’t that, why didn’t you try to find me? I thought we shared something….”

Startled by the heat and temptation that etched through his nerves at Howard’s slight touch, Ezra grabbed Howard’s hand, eased it away. “We did share something.” His voice caught on the memories, on the hope in Howard’s expression. “Something very special to me but circumstances…. Things ...happened that made returning impossible.”

He was so caught up by the memories in the blue eyes that Ezra didn’t notice Howard leaning in for a kiss. The warm lips brushed his, pressed closer – and desire rushed through Ezra’s blood like too much fine wine. For an instant all thought of the world, of reality, of Vin, vanished, and he leaned in just slightly, wanting the kiss to deepen. Reality crashed over the lust, and Ezra jerked back.

“Ezra,” Howard started.

“Howard, I’m sorry but there is another person in my life now.”

His statement didn’t seem to surprise Howard. “Mister Tanner.”

Before Ezra could figure out how to answer that, Howard once more closed. But Ezra dodged away to walk to the table to refill his wineglass. A single thought of Vin brought a smile to Ezra’s face.

Turning, he meet Howard’s gaze squarely. “I love him.”

It was strange to speak the words out loud to someone not in their family; someone other than Buck. His smile grew a little, warmth swelling as if the words spoken to another man made them seem even more real.

Howard joined Ezra at the table. “Can he give you what you want? What you need?” Howard’s deep voice caressed him. “Can he give you excitement? New Orleans? Privilege? And the cane? The scar? He couldn’t stop those.”

“No,” Ezra agreed softly, “but he saved me from much worse.”

“I admit,” Howard continued. “He is handsome, with beautiful eyes, but he’s so… unsophisticated, rough.”

“Stop, Howard,” Ezra demanded. For an eternity he stared at his lost love, at the world that might have been his. For a few seconds he had felt the lust float through him, but now, all he could see was the hope in Howard’s eyes, hope he had to deny.

“Howard….” He started. “Vin is all….”

To Ezra’s surprise, Howard stepped back, held up his hand. “No, don’t say anymore now. I see how you feel. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me. I would be more than happy to stay friends, as before.”

As a conman, Ezra was always aware of what someone was really saying, hearing the meaning beyond the words. Right now, he knew that Howard was not giving up that easily. Ezra’s answer was not one that Howard would accept but he would stall for now until he could change his approach. Ezra knew that nothing would change his feelings toward Vin. For a minute, he didn’t know what to do. He valued Howard as an old friend who had meant much to him.

After a few seconds, he said, “I will always appreciate your friendship, Howard.”

“Excellent,” Howard said. Before Ezra could move, Howard leaned in and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

The taller man sat back down, sighed. “Maybe we have reached the age where excitement is found in settling down. I’ve just purchased another warehouse, out near the upper docks.”

Surprised by the shift, Ezra took his seat again. “Vin and I are the proud owners of a ranch now. We had registered the brand just before we left. The Lucky 7.”

“Really?” Howard leaned forward, refilled both their wine glasses. “I was thinking of looking for a place here.” Raising his glass, he said, “To the Lucky 7.”

Ezra touched glasses, glanced up in time to see the mischievous gleam return to Howard’s expression. “Perhaps, both of us having a place would allow a dalliance or….”

“Howard,” Ezra said firmly. “Behave.”

“Are you ready for dessert?”

Appreciating the kidding tone, Ezra said, “Only if it is served on a plate with the proper utensils.”

“I am nothing but a gentleman, Ezra.”

Smiling, Ezra took refuge in a normal conversation. “If you are serious about looking for an abode, I can recommend an excellent attorney.”

“Thank you,” Howard said politely. “Now, I have a box at the theater and would love to share an evening with you and your two companions.”


	20. Chapter 20

Ezra glanced at his watch as he started down the side street away from the gentlemen’s club. After Howard’s retreat from trying to seduce him, they had spent an entertaining afternoon swapping stores of their illegal adventures. The time had gotten away from him, leading to him leave later than he planned. He smiled. His original plan had been to buy a few odds and ends to make their trip home more comfortable but it would have to wait.

The wind was picking up as he stopped to peer into one of the shop windows. He glanced up, knowing that the weather was about to get wet again. While Vin kidded him about only knowing it was going to rain when he was getting wet, he had ridden the riverboats of the Mississippi and Missouri Rivers, long enough to know the signs of storms and approaching cold. He recalled the furious storms that sometimes swept in from the south, flooding New Orleans. It was so different from the place he called home now. He took a deep breath of the charged air, continued his walk.

Ezra didn’t think things could get any better than his current situation. He had money to take care of Vin’s problem. Howard turning up and wishing to remain friends had been a pleasant surprise. And speaking his love of Vin to Howard had put an unexpected lightness to his step and brightened an already sparkling mood. The only thing that nagged at him was the natural pessimism that Maude had engrained in him from birth. If only he could shake that haunting feeling that something was lurking in the shadows.

A mule trolley slid smoothly by on the rails in front of him, returning his thoughts to things he wanted to accomplish before the memorial service. He had made it to the bank to set up the account so that if anything happened to him, Vin would get the money. Now, he just had to get to Mister Matthews and have a will drawn up. He glanced at the tracks of steel before him. Matthews’ office was not far but it would be easier to take the trolley. Vin would know immediately he had been walking if he appeared even the slightest bit unsteady, something he had so far managed to avoid. Glancing up the street he saw another of the mule pulled streetcars only a few blocks down and decided to wait for it.

Several other gentlemen gathered around to wait. One stepped up next to him. “Good afternoon, sir.”

Ezra nodded. “Yes, it seems the rain has, at least, held off until morrow.”

It gained him a quick smile before the man spread his paper and started reading. Ezra glanced at the streetcar discharging people, at the well-dressed businessmen and beautifully attired ladies, heading into the quarter for dinner.

There was a shift next to him, a body pressed full against his back – and a knife pressed against his ribs. The man in front gave him a calm smile.

“If you would, sir, we have some business we need to discuss.” He slipped a hand under Ezra’s arm. “This way.”

Glancing between the man holding the knife and the one in front of him, Ezra considered his options. The muscles in his right hand flexed as he started to activate the derringer. Two other men suddenly crowded close; the knife dug sharply into his ribs even through the coat and vest. Ezra took a sharp breath. He didn’t have many options against four of them. The street car gave a whistle and moved away.

“How can I refuse such a gracious initiation?” Ezra said with a smile, bringing a snort from the first man.

The knife came away from his ribs. The shorter man grabbed Ezra’s right arm under the elbow, holding it hard and using it to steer him down the street.

They went down a block and into an alley between buildings. The fact that they were now leaving the main street, and it would be harder to get away, made Ezra reconsider his options. Two more sharp turns found him just outside a small walled garden behind a row of well-appointed homes. The grip on his arm loosened just slightly.

In one swift move, Ezra jerked his arm free, swung the cane hard left to strike one man across the face while triggering the derringer with his right. The single shot was deflected as a rifle came down from behind him, slammed against his forearm. The second shot ricocheted off the cobblestones as the cane was wrenched from his hand. Both arms were grabbed from behind, twisted up behind his back. A final upward jerk on his right arm sent the derringer to the damp bricks at his feet. He choked back a cry of pain, refusing to let his assailants know he was hurt.

A shadow passed the entrance to the garden, signaling another man’s arrival. Ezra looked up. There was nothing and everything familiar about the man. He was heavily built, wearing a worn suit, though the gloves he wore were well made. Ezra recognized his type, hired help, smart enough to follow orders but not give them.

A backhand slap snapped his head around, brought the slight taste of blood from his teeth cutting his cheek. Ezra remained silent, seeing no reason to encourage the men to cause him more pain. The new man nodded toward the two holding him and Ezra found his arms released. He refused to rub the injured right arm.

“Money, sir.” A heavy accent, New York Ezra guessed, colored the plain words.

Checking his odds once more, Ezra knew it was better to give up the small amount of cash than try to fight. The danger was in what would happen after the money was turned over. Reaching into his coat, Ezra pulled out the money pouch from his left inside coat jacket, handed it over with a sigh.

Ezra straightened his coat. “I am more than happy to offer my meager wallet to you.”

The man took the bills out, flipped through them. The man nodded shortly, and for a second Ezra thought that would be the end of his mugging. Before Ezra could move away he was hit by a sharp punch into his side. Growing up cheating people had honed his reflexes though and he managed to give with it, even as another fist grazed his chin. He fell back, raising one hand to throw a punch only to be grabbed from behind once again. Before he could try another move, a knife pressed hard against his throat, blood trickling down to his collar. Knowing he was helpless, Ezra forced himself to relax. Panicking in a dangerous situation was the way to get killed.

“Not nearly enough, sir,” the man in charge said. “We’re going to expect more than this.”

“I fail to understand how you expect –“

Leaning in close the man slipped the edge of the blade under one of the buttons on Ezra’s waistcoat, cut it off. Minutes went by with only the sounds of Ezra’s sharp breathing and the tinny clink of the dropping buttons hitting the dirty alley. When the gold brocade was open, the man started on the linen shirt, nicking Ezra on the first swipe. Ezra took a deep breath, held very still.

“This is your only warning,” the leader said. “Boss wants it all.”

The theory that this was a simple mugging vanished, and a cold shiver went down Ezra’s back. The fact that his attackers knew, and were after the trust fund money, added an unexpected layer of complications and questions.

“I take it a refusal will end badly for me,” Ezra said.

“Nah, you get to stay healthy to bring us the money.” The leader leaned very close, pulling Ezra up toward him by the collar, smearing blood across the white cotton. “Those two friends of yours though, they might get hurt.”

He was pushed back away from the man and another punch slammed into his side from behind. He gasped, tried to double over but was held up by the grip the shorter man had on his clothes. Panting, he slowly came up straight, meeting the leader’s glare.

“Two days,” New York threatened. “Two days or we give one of your friends the same treatment until we get the money.”

Ezra found himself released. For just an instant he thought Lady Luck was with him – then a boot caught him from behind, sending him to the ground. He tucked, tried to roll to his feet only to the hit from the side by the strong punch to his stomach. Bile rose in his throat even as the air left his lungs. Ezra gagged, trying to breath and choking instead. The next punch caught him on the side of the head, just below his eye, sending him reeling once more. Dizziness like he’d not experienced since those first horrible weeks after he’d been shot by Ella Gaines hit him, sent him to his knees as he lost what he’d eaten. He never noticed when his assailants left.

When the world came back into focus, he realized he was alone in the alley. Ezra shifted, trying to gain his feet, and realizing immediately it was a mistake, as his head spun and his whole body screamed in pain. Leaning back against the damp bricks, he decided the best thing to do was wait a bit until his head didn’t hurt so much or until he lucked out and someone happened by. The thought of how long it might take brought another thought, one that hurt almost as much as the beating.

Vin was going to kill him.


	21. Chapter 21

“I’m gonna kill the little snake!”

Vin wasn’t surprised when Josiah smiled at his outrage. He knew he was being a mother hen. It was just too easy to remember almost losing Ezra.

“Vin, Ezra knows this town better’n you know the country around Four Corners. I’m sure –“  
“Lunch then a few stops, he says.” Vin continued, not hearing Josiah’s comment. “It’s been dark for nearly –“

The door opened to reveal Ezra leaving heavily on both the door frame and Mister Fontaine.  
“Ezra!” Vin yelled.

Before Josiah could even think about moving, Vin was beside the gambler, sliding one arm around his waist while taking Ezra’s arm over his shoulder. Fontaine stepped away.

“Damn,” Vin breathed softly. “We need to get you –“

“I tried to get him to see a doctor, Mister Tanner,” Fontaine said with obvious exasperation. “He refuses. He is as stubborn as his mother.”

“Go get the doctor,” Vin ordered.

“Please, Mister Tanner,” Ezra said in a nearly normal voice. “It is merely a few bruises.”

“Bruises don’t bleed all over your god-damn shirt, Ezra,” Vin growled.

Vin looked up at Fontaine, saw the real concern from the older man. Jerking his head toward the door, he said, “Get the doc. I’ll make sure Ezra behaves.”

“And there are two of us,” Josiah said as he stepped up to join them.

Fontaine nodded, spinning around and closing the door behind him. Vin’s emotions were jumping between terror and anger, though the fear won out as Vin felt Ezra sag a little more in his hold. Tightening his grip around the shorter man’s waist, he started moving them toward the bedroom. Before he could even ask, Josiah eased around them, flung open the door, turned down the bed then proceeded to fill the basin with water.

“Vin,” Ezra said. “It really is nothing serious.”

“I’ll decide that when I got your clothes off.”

The emerald gaze connected with his, glittering with anger. “I think I am capable of knowing when –“

“Ezra,” Josiah said. “I’d shut up if I were you. Vin was mad enough that you were late. I wouldn’t push your luck any further.”

Sitting down on the bed, Ezra reached for the few buttons left on his shirt. When he looked up, Vin could see the fiery pride in the swollen eye. The look only served to fuel his own anger. “Damnit, Ezra, you’re the one warned us about getting –“

“The incident was not a common robbery.”

Vin straightened, glancing at Josiah. “What?”

With a heavy sigh, Ezra shrugged out of his shirt and handed it to Vin before laying back. Red bruises and scrapes decorated Ezra’s right side and back. Blood was oozing from a slight cut along his throat. It was not deep but Vin figured it would need stitching. There was a bruise starting to form on his jaw and by morning he would have a black-eye.

Taking one of the two damp rags that Josiah held out, Vin started wiping the blood off Ezra’s neck. Ezra took the other rag, began to wipe the dirt and blood off the rest of his face.

“Need to get the local lawman,” Vin said tightly.

Josiah frowned. “Town’s had a bit of trouble with corruption since Reconstruction. Most of the policemen take in a little extra from someone or some company. Better not to ask.”

Ezra raised a finger to his swelling eye. “I fear I will not be at my best for the next few days activities.”

“I’ll go get some ice,” Josiah said.

As the big ex-priest stood to leave, Vin finally thought to ask, “What happened?”

“Four men persuaded me to go talk to a fifth. They took all the money I had accessible,” Ezra said bluntly.

Vin looked up from his gentle aid, thinking the same thing that Ezra had originally thought, “That ain’t a robbery?”

Flinching a little as he shifted under Vin’s touch. “They wanted more to be retrieved from the inheritance.”

Josiah had stopped at the door on hearing Vin’s question and now Vin exchanged a quick look with him, obviously not believing the too short story. “That why they let you go? So’s you can bring back more money?”

“The beating was a warning that if I did not surrender the rest of the money from the bank, the next encounter would be considerably worse,” Ezra said sarcastically. “They also threatened my two companions.”

“How were you supposed to deliver the money?” Forgetting about the ice, Josiah came over and sat in the chair against the wall.

“There were no specifics yet. I was given two days to get the funds.” Ezra squeezed his eyes shut, holding the damp cloth to his forehead.

Vin’s fingers touched his hand. “Dizzy?”

Ezra’s nod was almost imperceptible.

Before Vin could order him to lie down, Josiah asked, “Who would know about the money?”

Vin watched worry and pain dull Ezra’s expression. “I don’t know. I was assured by Mister Matthews that Morgan would not.”

“Morgan?” Josiah questioned.

“Step-brother,” Vin supplied.

Without asking, Vin moved over and started to take Ezra’s boots off. It was a sign of the gambler’s growing exhaustion that he didn’t object. Fighting his fear and anger under control, Vin eased the boots off.

“Lay back, Ezra.”

“Ice,” Josiah suddenly remembered. “Right back.”

Vin started to move onto the bed next to Ezra when the main door opened and Mister Fountain and the doctor arrived. Moving reluctantly aside, Vin let the older man into the room.

“If you had heeded me, we would have been spared the expensive of that so-called physician,” Ezra complained as he slipped a clean, whole shirt on, moving slower than he hoped Vin noticed.

“And if’n you’d listened to us,” Vin returned sharply. “You wouldn’t have needed a doctor!”

Before he could form a comeback, the room did a slight spin, making Ezra blink and steady himself on the bed frame.

“Ezra, why are you putting on a shirt?” Vin said with a deadly tone. “It’s done pass midnight. You heard the doc say to rest. Get your skinny ass back in that bed.”

“I thought between the three of us, we might be able to ascertain who…”

“Bed!” Vin snapped.

“Stop it!” Josiah barked, sounding very much like an annoyed parent. “You’re both just scared and mad.”

Ezra looked down at his shirt, then up sheepishly at Vin. “I am sorry, Vin, I was not thinking.”

“Don’t like being scared, Ezra,” Vin whispered.

Josiah sat back in the chair again. Ezra eased off the shirt and wrapped himself in one of the terry cloth robes offered him by Vin. He leaned back, his pants still on, refusing to acknowledge the pain that was spinning through his head.

“You got no idea who it might be?” Vin asked.

“At present, no.”

“Reckon we figure out who knows about that money and we’ll have a trail,” Vin offered.”

Josiah moved the red stained water basin out of the room, leaving it on the main table to be taken out. “So, they know about the big money, use this to take what you have and threaten you to deliver the rest or get hurt?”

“Succinctly put, Mister Sanchez but they also threatened my companions.”

Vin took a sharp breath. “We need to figure out who knows about the money.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Ezra said quietly. “I intend to provide them with a large portion of the fund, enough that they will be satisfied and withdraw from the engagement.”

Ezra looked up, wincing a little at the spin the room once more did, but meeting Vin’s gaze. “I will not have anyone hurt because of the money.”

Vin’s expression softened in understanding how much giving up the money said about Ezra’s change since they had become a family. “That ain’t right, Ezra.”

“How do you know that giving them some will keep ‘em happy?” Josiah asked. “What if they know about the whole amount?”

Closing his eyes again, Ezra admitted softly, “Then I will give it to them.”

He tried to think of something else to say but couldn’t seem to get pass the pain that was quickly taking over his thinking.

“Might just want to hunker down here,” Josiah suggested. “Wait them out.”

“Do the service, then go home,” Vin agreed.

Ezra tried to nod but the laudanum and injuries were quickly over taken his desire to stay awake. “There are still things…”

It was the last thing he remembered saying before he drifted to sleep.

A light knock on the door jolted Vin awake. He was reaching for his gun on the night stand even before where he was registered. Next to him, under two blankets, Ezra shifted a bit then went back to his drug induced dreams.

Gun still in hand, Vin walked to the door, asking through it, “Josiah?”

“All clear, Vin. Thought you might want some breakfast.”

Opening the door, Vin asked, “Breakfast?”

It was only then he noticed the gold of morning light leaking around the heavy muslin drapes. Shaking his head, he said, “Dang, I’m sleeping in more’n Ezra.”

Josiah glanced over Vin’s head. “How is he?”

“Good. Came awake a few hours pass, took some water and a slug of whiskey then went right back to sleep.”

“Think he’s up to some food? Morphine on an empty stomach can make a man pretty sick.”

Nodding, Vin turned toward the bed.

“Hey, Vin” Josiah said lightly, “some clothes might be good.”

Not really concerned about his lack of clothing, Vin paused to put on some rumbled pants and a shirt. Leaning over his still sleeping partner, Vin whispered, “Food, Ezra.”

That gained him a slight grumble, and the non-swollen eye opening slightly. “Vin?”

“Know someone else’d be leaning over ya in bed?”

Ezra started to throw the blankets off, only to jerk and hiss in pain.

“Easy, there,” Vin urged him. “You remember last night?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Vin slipped his arm under Ezra’s back and helped him sit up. Between soft moans, they managed to get Ezra out of the pants he had fallen asleep in and into a robe.

“I am capable of walking, Mister Tanner.”

Not wanting to get into another argument, Vin frowned, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. Moving stiffly, Ezra made it to the interior door.

In the sitting room, Josiah had breakfast spread out on the table and was pouring hot tea into a cup. With a groan, Ezra sat down while Vin took the seat next to him.

Sitting the cup in front of Ezra, Josiah ordered, “Drink up. I was told by the local bokor this stuff would help kill pain and build up the blood.”

Still more asleep than awake, Ezra took a large gulp from the fine china cup, and immediately started choking. Vin smiled, even as he patted Ezra gently on the back.  
Breathlessly, Ezra stammered, “That is the most obnoxious concoction I have ever been forced to endure.”

Josiah picked up the cup, sniffed it. “Really? That is too bad, as I was told it would also improve a man’s performance.”

“You must be feeling normal there, Ezra, you done back to long words.” Putting a glass of water in front of him, Vin said, “Drink.”

As they ate, the question they were all thinking about was finally voiced by Vin. “Sides from us three and Mister Matthews, who you reckon knows about that money?”

“Bank manager,” Josiah said.

“You said there’s a lot of bribes going on round here,” Vin ventured. “Reckon they might tell someone for a split of the money?”

“It might be conceivable that he would let it be known that a large fortune was to be had.” Ezra looked thoughtful as he pushed the eggs around his plate. “Especially considering the possible removal of the money from his bank.”

“Ezra, quit playing with those eggs and eat them,” Vin said through a mouthful of bacon.

Glaring at Vin for a second, Ezra took a mouthful of eggs. “Bank managers are highly regarded in their honesty and tactfulness. If it were Mister Hopkins it would be a breach of information that might well bring down his banking enterprise. No, it seems unlikely.”

They ate in silence for a minute as Ezra seemed to be thinking through the previous night.  
“Whoever is behind this is not actually thinking intelligently,” Ezra observed. “It was a singular awkward plan.”

“Why you think that?” Vin wondered.

“Attacking me for the small amount on my person, then threatening you two with kidnapping, leads me to believe that they have used this method of persuasion before.”

“Oh my.” Ezra straightened in his chair. “I did mention the inheritance in the telegraph to our companions.”

Vin and Josiah glanced in surprise at each other.

“Hell, Ezra,” Josiah sighed. “That means it’s all over Four Corners and half the territory by now.”

“Someone back there, let someone back here know,” Vin stated.

“That does seem to be the logical answer,” Ezra agreed. He stopped and stared into space for a minute.

Josiah poured them more coffee. “Lots of people back there, lots here.”

“Still don’t take Simpson outta the running neither,” Vin said. “Might be time to find out more about your step-brother.”

Ezra yawned and stretched back only to finish the move with a flinch. Vin caught the movement and nodded to him. “Whatever we do next will be while you’re in bed.”

“I am not….” Ezra started, then stopped suddenly. “I think perhaps the eggs were more than my constitution is up to managing.”

Understanding Ezra desire to appear normal as well as his need to hunt whoever had attacked him, Vin decided not to push it yet. Smearing some butter on a piece of toast, he offered it over to Ezra.

“Eat that and then it’s back to bed for ya.”

Giving the toast a dubious look, Ezra finally gave a slight shrug and took the piece, nibbling at it carefully in between sips of water.

“If I refuse to concede to their demands,” Ezra said as firmly as he could while still being a little shaky. “Finding the culprits behind the attack would seem to be a better option than just hiding.”

“We ain’t going to be here much longer,” Josiah reminded him.

“But there are still details that need attending too,” Ezra said. “And who is to say that the attacks will end with our departure for home.”

Frowning, Vin admitted, “You got a point there.”

“Especially if we ascertain that the villain gained his information from Four Corners.”

“Yeah, reckon if he can find things out there, he can cause trouble there.”

Vin watched Ezra’s face go a bit whiter. Ezra’s snapped his gaze to Vin. “I did not consider that he might be a threat to our companions back home.”

“I don’t think that would be in the equation, there Ezra,” Josiah explained. “They might know we’re here and that there are other lawmen in Four Corners but threatening them would not have the same immediate effect.”

Seeing the reassurance Ezra took from the Josiah’s explanation, Vin said lightly, “You’re starting to sound like Ezra with those long sentences there, Josiah.”

“Along with the activities that require our attention, I intend to partake of the joys of civilization while I can before we head home. We have been invited to the theater on Friday.”

“Going to the theater, isn’t worth getting killed over,” Josiah said.

Vin frowned. “Ezra….”

“I will agree to remain inside as much as possible,” Ezra said. “But I believe if we stay together there will be no further altercations.”

“Ain’t so sure ‘bout that,” Vin speculated.

“Our first assignment should be to send a telegram to the others and inquire into any telegrams that might have been sent out recently.” Ezra yawned.

“I can get that done by myself,” Josiah volunteered.

“Did not we just agree to remain together?” Ezra questioned sarcastically. “It is settled then.” Ezra gently touched his bruised cheek. “After lunch we shall go to the stone carver, then pick up our evening wear from Mister Lellouche. Do we need to visit the good Father today, Mister Sanchez?”

“Father MacAlroy has everything he needs.” Josiah assured them but then added, “But if we want to find out anything about Simpson, we should talk to the Father.”

“It is my understanding,” Ezra said in confusion, “that information told to a priest is in scared confidence.”

Josiah laughed. “In the confessional, yes. But nobody gossips like church ladies. The Father probably knows more about what goes on in this town than the lawmen.”

Vin chuckled. “Reckon he’s the one to talk.”

“As far as the service, Ezra, the Father will want to know if you want to say a few words,” Josiah added.

Ezra took a sharp breath. With everything that had happened the day before, it was almost as if the reason for their being in New Orleans had been pushed to the back of his mind. He meet Josiah’s steady gaze, for one of the few times in his life, words deserting him. Looking down at the bruises still darkening on his wrist, he sighed.

“I will consider it,” he said softly.


	22. Chapter 22

Loosening the clinch on his saddle, Buck handed the reins to JD, watched as he took their two horses toward the barn. He couldn’t help but think they had been lucky, except for Collings, there had been no real trouble in the area protected by the seven, temporarily four lawmen.

As he started across the street, all his thoughts were about a big supper and maybe a few hands of poker. Without Ezra there, he had enjoyed winning a little silver. Before he had gotten all the way across the hard packed dirt, Jason came running toward him from the telegraph office. Taking his hat off, Buck used it to slap the dust off his shirt. He had a feeling by the way the young man was looking, that whatever it was, wasn’t going to be good.

“Mister Wilmington, telegram for you.”

Heaving a sigh, Buck took the paper and read the message. “Goddamn, those three can’t go anywhere without getting into trouble.”

He looked up surprised to find Jason still standing there. The boy held out another piece of paper. Buck took it. “What’s this?”

“I realized by Mister Standish’s telegram that you were going to need that,” Jason said. “It is all the telegrams I’ve send out to New Orleans. Only one, that salesman fellow.”

Smiling, Buck handed him a silver dollar. “Smart man.”

Jason accepted the coin and the compliment. “I heard about that happened with the last telegraph operator. I want to make sure to help.”

“Thanks, partner. If you see Nathan or Chris, have ‘em meet me in the saloon.”

“Sure will.”

As Jason moved back toward the wire office, Buck turned around and went toward the stable. JD came around the corner in time for Buck to motion him over. He started explaining the situation to JD as they headed for the saloon to wait for the others. All the while, Buck tried to figure out what they could do to help their friends in New Orleans. He had come up with nothing by the time the other two joined them.

“So, the way I got it figured this salesman fellow must have told someone at this place he worked about Ezra getting the money.”

“And he,” Chris continued, “tried to get it from Ezra.”

“Think we got any chance of catching the peddler?” JD questioned.

Nathan shook his head. “Not without knowing which stage he would have meet at the next station.”

With a sly smile, Buck said, “We don’t have to. Jason gave me the name of the company that telegram was sent to.”

“He must have heard about the last fellow,” Nathan commented.

“Besides sending the news to Ezra, is there anything else we can do?” JD asked Chris.

“I’ve been trying to think’a something,” Buck answered. “But nothing comes to mind.”

Chris said. “They’re on their own.”

Always the optimist, Buck added, “They’ll be fine. I cain’t think of much those three cain’t handle.”

The trolley ride this time took them past the massive mausoleums that dominated the old cemeteries. Two blocks after exiting the trolley, they came to the business they were looking for, Adam’s Stone Carvers. After being shown the various styles and types of stone, the carver went away to let them discuss their choices.

“Josiah?” Ezra asked. “Did my mother offer any guidance in this area?”

“On this matter, no. Reckon she’d want something pretty fancy though,” Josiah offered.

“Yes, well, that goes without saying,” Ezra observed.

“Can’t see Maude wanting angels over her though,” Vin said.

Ezra laughed, then said, “She did like roses.”

“Pink granite,” Josiah said firmly, “with roses around the edges.”

Looking up at Josiah, Ezra said, ‘That sounds remarkably prefect.”

Motioning the stone carver over, Ezra explained what he wanted. Taking notes the man then asked, “And the name and dates, sir?”

Looking momentarily confused, Ezra said, “Her birthday was September 24th. But I was never sure of the year. She was quite adept at keeping her age a secret.” With a gesture of surrender, he said, “Maude Standish 1814,” he guessed, then gave the other date.

The man looked up from his notes. “Any sentiments? Such as “beloved mother.””

“That might be nice,” Vin offered.

‘Let’s not get carried away,” Ezra said flatly.

“How about “remembered always by her family,” The carver volunteered.

Before Ezra could respond, Josiah said, “She was a lady that was hard to forget.”

“That will be fine,” Ezra agreed, sharing a smile with Vin as they remembered her request to them.

The walk was pleasant, the air just shy of cold. Josiah lead the way, lost in thoughts as he dodged people along the crowded sidewalks. Despite his obvious rush to get to the church, Vin noticed that Josiah kept a slow enough pace to not make Ezra work too hard at keeping up. Vin stayed to the outside of Ezra, just in case there was any trouble from the street.

The bronze church doors were propped open, letting the sunshine warm the marble and limestone edifice. A few of the pews held believers, while a small line in the front waited for their chance to confess their sins. For a moment, Vin wondered if that were where Josiah was headed. But the taller man stopped just inside the doors.

“I’ll find out if he can meet us now,” Josiah said. “Might have to make that lunch then a nap.”

As Josiah moved down the center aisle toward the back of the church, Vin took Ezra by the elbow and moved him toward a granite bench carved along the wall under one of the impressive stained glass windows; this one depicting the Nativity. Ezra sat down with a sigh, propping the cane on the bench beside him. Before sitting down next to him, Vin looked up at the window, admiring the skill such a thing must have taken.

Looking down at Ezra, he started to make a comment on it, only to find Ezra leaning forward, elbows on his knees and staring blankly down toward the huge crucifix that dominated the wall behind the altar.

Easing down, Vin asked softly, “You okay, Ezra?”

Glancing up, Ezra smiled at him. “Fine, Vin, just contemplating betrayal and redemption.”

Putting his hand on Ezra’s shoulder for a minute, Vin tried to think of something to say.

Ezra stopped him before he could speak. “It’s okay, Vin, only a momentary lapse into melancholy.” Leaning back against the stone, he said, “I’m sure my mood will improve with our trip to the theater tonight.”

For one of the few times, Vin didn’t know what Ezra was thinking, so he let it pass in comfortable silence as they waited for Josiah. The break was short. Josiah appeared through a door near the confessionals and waved at them. Vin slipped his hand under Ezra’s arm and helped him up before handing him the maple and silver cane. Within a few minutes they were all seated around a small, plain table in the rectory.

Father MacAlroy smiled warmly at them, then flinched when he took a look at Ezra. “Mister Standish, you look a fright.”

“Thank you, Father, I have been informed of that.” Ezra frowned.

Seeing the humor in Ezra’s sly statement, MacAlroy smiled again, though with a touch of sympathy. “Can I get some wine for you gentlemen?”

“Yes –“Ezra started.

“Ezra there will be having some water,” Josiah ordered.

Vin only smiled at Ezra’s outrage. “Water for me too, Father.”

As he stood to retrieve their drinks, the Father said, “What can I tell you gentlemen about Mister Morgan Simpson, other than he is not one of my regulars, mostly appearing when he is trying to impress a young lady’s family. Unlike so many, his troubles seem to have driven him away from our Lord, rather than in to the arms of.”

Placing a glass in front of each man, the priest added, “I have lost a few parishioners to the new church in the Garden District. He might be attending there.”

“What kind of troubles is he having?” Josiah asked,

“We are aware that he has been forced to put up Isle of Green for sale,” Ezra added.

“Aye and dirt cheap it is, too.” Leaning forward, MacAlroy said, as if in confidence, “He does still own the last of the warehouses he inherited from his father, somewhere near the upper river docks, and a . Seems he dug himself in deep with some shady characters who are demanding a large repayment on a loan.”

The three lawmen exchanged quick glances, understanding the meaning of that.  
“Father,” Josiah asked, “do you happen to know what business he is in?”

“He supplies the riverboats with gambling equipment,” MacAlroy explained. “A steady, if not saintly business.”

“How’d he get into all these troubles?” Vin questioned.

“Word is that he enjoys playing his own games.”

“That would explain it,” Ezra said, nodding. “Anything else he might be up to?”

The priest shook his head. “That is all I know about the man. Such a shame about him, too. His father was long a member of this church.”

“Would you happen to know the name of this not saintly business?” Ezra asked.

Once more MacAlroy smiled at Ezra’s dry humor. “No, son, I don’t.”

There was silence before Ezra stood, offered his hand to the priest. “Father MacAlroy, thank you for your help.”

Vin followed his moves. Josiah stayed seated. “If you two don’t mind, can I meet you out front in a few minutes?”

“Sure, Josiah,” Vin answered.

They walked quietly to the vestibule, taking a seat on the long, uncomfortable stone pew on one side of the entrance.

“Think your ma might have come here with Simpson?” Vin asked.

Ezra shook his head. “I do not remember him attending any church.”

Comfortable silence claimed them for a moment, before Ezra asked, “Do I really look a fright?”

Laughing at sudden display of Ezra’s notorious vanity, Vin said, “You ain’t looking your best.”

Ezra frowned, gently touching his swollen jaw. Instead of defended against Vin’s light line, he gestured toward where they had left Josiah. “He is considering returning to the church.”

It was said so levelly, that Vin could only nod. “Yeah, looking for the right trail, I reckon.”

Giving him a slow, loving smile, Ezra said, “People change. We know that better than most. I hope he finds his…trail.”


End file.
